


Forward Momentum

by AsYouWish



Category: The Avengers (2012), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon Disabled Character, Crossover, Drama, Fix-It, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsYouWish/pseuds/AsYouWish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains a bit of a mash-up of things taken from (mostly) the X-Men and Avengers films, with a smattering of comics canon and things I made up. Beta read by my dear friend J, so any remaining mistakes or inconsistencies are all mine.

It was raining the day Charles Xavier met his future self.

Charles had woken up to the soft patter of rainfall outside his window. After blinking the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, he allowed himself a moment of melancholy, his mood shifting into something matching the weather that had descended upon Westchester sometime during the night. Charles made a concentrated daily effort not to dwell on the past, both for him and for the small family he’d amassed at the manor, but in that moment, the sounds of the falling rain tapped out the losses mapped across Charles’ heart in sharp, staccato beats. _Grief. Sadness. Regret. Raven. Erik._

Blinking back the sudden moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes, Charles tossed aside his blankets and reached for his chair. Everything about his life post-Cuba was different, even the simple act of getting out of bed. As he went through his morning routine, the movements no longer quite as alien and uncomfortable as they had once been, he allowed his mind to wander. It was in these private moments behind his own closed doors that Charles indulged in what-ifs and could’ve beens. What if he had tried harder to understand Raven? Stood in her shoes, used his own unique sense of empathy and understanding on the one person who had been like a sister to him, the only real family he’d ever had? What if things had been different that day on the beach? What if Erik had stayed?

In these moments, Charles imagined himself believing Erik when he said they wanted the same things. Erik took off the helmet, cradled Charles in his arms and kissed him, a kiss filled with unyielding devotion and promises of the future. Raven was there, squeezing his hand, and if he closed his eyes, Charles could almost smell the salt of the water as it lapped against the shore. If he closed his eyes, he could believe that somewhere, somehow, these were the choices they had made that day.

Charles found Hank alone in the kitchen once he had finally readied himself to face the day, the aroma of pancakes and bacon wafting pleasantly through the room. Charles figured it was only a matter of time before the scent reached Alex and Sean upstairs and woke them from their usual deep sleep.

“Good morning, Professor,” Hank greeted with an easy smile as he flipped a pancake. Even though Raven was gone, the nicknames had stuck. Charles hadn’t been part of that, but the rest of them had, and he suspected that it was their way of coping with their own losses, holding on to something bright and unifying in the face of sudden confusion and betrayal.

“Good morning, Hank,” Charles replied, reaching for the newspaper Hank had lain out on the table. He thumbed through the pages, setting the crossword aside for later. He browsed a few stories on various unrelated topics: Winston Churchill granted honorary American citizenship in Washington, a group of teenagers gone missing up north in Vermont, a nuclear sub lost in the waters of the Atlantic. Charles frowned slightly, wondering if the men on board had known about mutants, if the Brotherhood had --

No. Charles wouldn’t think of that. What Erik and Raven and their allies did was none of Charles’ business. Not right now. Charles couldn’t deny the painful inevitability that one day he would have to face Erik and Raven as adversaries, but he was resolved to keep that day as far in the future as he possibly could.

“Charles?” Hank asked. His head was titled faintly to the side as he studied Charles, brow furrowed in slight concern. Charles smiled in apology and set the paper down. “Forgive me, Hank. What were you saying?”

“I was just telling you that I think the new Cerebro is almost ready for a test run.”

Charles smiled, easy and natural, something that was admittedly rarer these days than he would like to admit. “Excellent! Well done, Hank.”

Hank grinned bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m hoping that the improvements I made will expand your reach even further than the original model could. We’ve all been bouncing around some ideas about what we can teach the first wave of mutants that come to the school. Sean feels very strongly about inundating young mutant minds with his favorite comic books, but I didn’t think you’d find that to be terribly relevant to the curriculum. Sean argued that Captain America is always relevant but, well,” and Hank shrugged, baffled expression on his face.

For maybe the first time since Cuba, Charles felt a genuine sense of contented warmth spread slowly through him, settling comfortably in his chest next to the earlier sadness of the morning, which quietly dissipated away.

*

Charles had barely had a chance to appreciate all that he felt and all that it meant to be connected to Cerebro, connected to so many mutants, so many beautifully unique minds, when a familiar presence nearby pulled all of his focus.

Raven.

There was a distinct absence of matter near her. It wasn’t the naturalness that came from unoccupied spaces as he moved from mutant to mutant, but an obvious block; a void.

Erik.

Charles opened his eyes and looked at Hank, expression serious and grim despite his best efforts to project a natural aura of calm. “I believe we have company, my friend.”

*

Erik stared up at the manor and, if it were possible, he thought it seemed even more imposing than it had the first time he’d ever laid eyes on it.

“He’s not going to turn us away. He wouldn’t,” Mystique said from beside him, but Erik didn’t miss the uncertain waver in her voice.

“He won’t,” Erik said, with certainty. “Charles is better than that.”

Erik had had to swallow a fair amount of pride before admitting that the Brotherhood needed Charles’ help for their latest mission. Well, what they really needed was Cerebro, but even if Emma could have gained access to it, Erik didn’t think she was powerful enough to find the mutants they were looking for. Not the way Charles could, expanding his reach in a way that seemed almost effortless and easy. It was yet another reminder of all the ways in which Emma Frost was not and never would be Charles Xavier.

Mystique was the one who had learned that Hank was working on a replica of the machine that had been destroyed during Shaw’s raid of the CIA facility. How she’d gleaned that information, Erik hadn’t asked. It was an unspoken agreement between them -- while they talked at length about the things they had gained in the six months since Cuba, they never, ever spoke about all they had lost.

Mystique took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Ok. Let’s do this as quick and painless as possible.” Erik admired her determination. Neither of them had seen or spoken to Charles since that day on the beach, a day they’d both just as soon forget, and he honestly wasn’t sure, in that moment, which of them would have to fight harder not to crumble under that earnest blue gaze.

“You really should take the helmet off,” Mystique observed as they approached the manor door. “It will make them more willing to trust us.”

Erik grinned at her, feral and full of teeth. “Not a chance.”

“At least you left the cape at home.”

Erik scoffed. “It’s been raining all morning. You know how difficult that thing is to clean.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden blast of energy surged between them, knocking them both to the ground.

“ _What. The. Fuck_ are you two doing here?” growled a voice from the doorway. Erik looked up. Alex had grown bulkier since Erik had last seen him, holding himself with an assurance and confidence that Erik couldn’t quite remember him possessing before. He was clad only in a pair of cotton pajama bottoms, but that didn’t make him any less formidable in that moment.

“Alex,” Mystique said cautiously, slowly climbing to her feet. “We aren’t here to fight.”

“I don’t really give a fuck why you’re here. Leave.”

Erik laughed as he stood, dusting the dirt and gravel from his trousers. “We aren’t afraid of you, and I fear you’re no match for us alone. Really, Havoc, I thought idle threats were beneath you.”

“He isn’t alone.” Sean emerged from behind Alex, looking at Mystique and Erik as if he couldn’t decide whether to be angry, scared, or maybe even a little bit happy to see them.

Erik sighed. “I don’t have time for child’s play. We’re here to see Charles.”

“No,” Sean said, clearly horrified by the idea. In the same moment, Alex shot another blast of energy at them, this one a clear warning. “You don’t go near the Professor,” he told them.

“Oh for God’s sake, knock it off!” Mystique exclaimed, and Erik could see that her temperament had quickly gone from cautious to irate. Alex looked ready to shoot at them again, Sean straightening to full height in preparation to back him up if needed. Instead, a quiet, calm voice sounded behind them.

“That’s enough, gentlemen.”

Whatever Erik had been expecting when he saw Charles again for the first time after their terrible parting, it hadn’t been this. Charles looked thin and sallow. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and he was paler than Erik had ever seen him. But the most disconcerting thing of all was that Charles was in a wheelchair. Surely he wasn’t still recovering after all this time?

“Erik. Raven.” Charles’ voice was even and steady. Erik envied him that in the face of the sudden, violent tumult that had taken over his insides. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Charles...” Mystique’s voice was quiet, something strained and painful. Her eyes were locked on the wheelchair, and Erik could see them filling with tears.

Charles’ tone was gentle, filled with far more kindness than Erik felt they deserved as he said, “I’m afraid it’s permanent, my dear.”

Mystique sank to her knees, hands covering her mouth as she fought back a sob. Erik stood, still as stone, held together by years of practice using unimaginable pain as a fuel, not a deterrent, but inside he was certain he was crumbling like the world’s great wonders of old. Charles would never walk again. He would never run on these grounds, head thrown back in laughter. Would never saunter slowly from the doorway to the bed, straddling Erik’s lap as he leaned down for heated, passionate kisses... Erik shook his head and pushed those memories back down into the places his mother had occupied alone, before Charles. Before Cuba. Before a bullet in the spine of the man he loved and a horrifying, irrefutable reality that nothing would ever be the same.

The calm acceptance with which Charles looked at them both was nearly Erik’s undoing. “Charles – ”

“You wish for me to use Cerebro to find a group of mutants you believe have been captured for experimentation?” He looked at Mystique, features shifting in slight remorse. “Forgive me, Raven. You’re projecting rather loudly at the moment.”

Erik cleared his throat. “Yes. You may have read about it, a group gone missing during a camping trip in the Appalachians. Our... sources tell us that this was a group of mutants attacked and taken by a government agency with the sole intent of testing and experimenting on them. Barely more than children, hunted and preyed upon by these monstrous people. Supposedly there’s an underground facility located in the general area of where they were taken.”

Charles nodded. “Please, come in.” The lack of hesitation and instant, if cautious, trust that Charles offered them twisted something painfully in Erik’s gut.

Charles turned his chair to move back into the house, and that’s when Erik noticed Hank, who had likely been standing there with Charles since his arrival at the door. Hank was looking at Mystique as if she were the air breathed back into the lungs of a drowning man. Erik wondered idly if he’d been looking at her the entire time, oblivious to all else that had been going on around him. Erik could remember what that felt like, getting lost in Charles’ easy smile, his kind nature, the endless depths of his eyes.

“Ra... Mystique,” he said, voice stilted and awkward, yet he still stepped forward to offer her his hand, helping her to stand on unsteady feet. Erik was sure she looked in control of herself to the others, but Erik knew better. If Charles hadn’t already gone back inside, he would have known better, too.

“Beast,” she said with a smile that seemed just slightly more natural than forced. “You look good.”

Alex rolled his eyes and moved to follow Charles inside, Sean on his heels. “Whatever. I’d like to go on record and say that I think this is a really fucking bad idea.” After a pause, he turned to face Erik and Mystique. “As you can see, he’s been through a lot since you abandoned us.” No sugar coating it, then. Erik had to admire his brashness. “If either of you have any fucking decency left at all, you’ll get your information and leave us the hell alone.”

Erik was familiar with anger. In fact, he considered it an old friend, and he knew this particular anger very well. Underneath it, Alex was a wounded animal, his survival instinct to lash out, to hurt before being hurt any further.

“I can assure you, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here.” It was a lie, and Erik knew it, Mystique probably knew it, but he doubted Alex, in all of his burning indignation, would give it a second thought.

Alex nodded stiffly and he and Sean disappeared into the house. It was just Erik, Mystique and Hank still outside, with Charles waiting patiently in the foyer just inside the doors. “Shall we?” Erik asked, inclining his head toward the manor.

The four of them made their way to Cerebro, Hank pushing Charles’ chair down the long corridor toward his lab. One of the first things Erik had noticed, after the initial shock of seeing the wheelchair had worn off, was that it was made of very little metal. Erik was sure it was intentional, that upon hearing Charles’ diagnosis Hank had immediately began mentally constructing a chair for Charles that Erik couldn’t manipulate. As if he would _ever_ \-- Erik swallowed down the sudden flare of anger, willing himself to be calm. Deep down, he knew that Hank had every reason not to trust him with Charles after what had happened.

As Erik glanced upward at the ceiling, he wondered if he and Mystique still had rooms here, if Charles had left them untouched in the hopes that one day they would return. Not that Erik had needed his room much, his nights spent in Charles’ bed, in Charles’ arms, laughing and kissing and fucking and whispering their secrets into the night, mapping out their hopes and dreams and fears on each other’s skin. Erik had felt infinite in those moments, invincible, like he could take on the world and, as long as Charles was by his side, he would succeed.

He and Mystique watched quietly as Hank hooked Charles up to Cerebro. “We’re not sure how well she works yet,” Hank told them as he double checked the wiring on Charles’ headpiece. “We were actually testing her out for the first time right as you showed up.”

“It’s how we knew you were here,” Charles said bemusedly. He had been uncharacteristically quiet since their admittance into the house. It was understandable, given the situation, and yet Erik still found it somewhat disconcerting.

“I thought you couldn’t find Erik because of...” Mystique gestured vaguely to her head, worrying her lower lip. It was one of the few ways in which the Brotherhood had the upper hand, Erik being able to shield himself from Charles entirely.

“I assure you, I haven’t found a way to ruin the Brotherhood’s favorite toy,” Charles told them, and underneath the affable effect of his voice, Erik could sense real hurt and bitterness there. “It was the rather pronounced and distinct lack of anything beside you, not even natural space, which alerted me to Erik.”

Information to be filed away for later use, Erik thought, although he doubted there was much to be done for it. He would only ever admit it to himself, in his greatest moments of weakness, how much he missed the calming, constant presence of his lover’s mind brushing against his own.

Charles looked to Hank, a slight nod indicating that he was ready. To Erik and Mystique, he simply said, “I’ll do my best to find what you’re looking for.” Erik didn’t doubt him for a moment. Despite the current chasm stretching out between them, Charles would never turn his back on a mutant in need.

“Still sure I can’t shave your head?” Hank asked with a grin. Charles laughed, and Erik took no longer than the beat of a heart to wonder at just how beautiful a single sound could be. Even Mystique’s lips twitched upward at the memory.

For the first few moments, it was almost exactly as Erik remembered it to be from the first time around. Charles’ closed eyes were moving rapidly behind the lids, hands gripping the arms of his chair as his mind touched mutant after mutant. His body gave a sudden lurch forward, the movement spasmodic and unexpected, and before he knew what he was doing, Erik was there, steadying him with hands on his shoulders.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Charles’ body jerked again, more violently this time, and Erik was able to register his surprised, “Oh!” before he knew only darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick story note: the older Charles and Erik are referred to as the Professor and Magneto in the narrative and by the other characters. It gets addressed in this chapter, but I thought for clarity's sake I'd mention it here! :) Thank you so much to everyone who has come by to comment or leave some kudos, I appreciate it so much! Also thanks once again to J for the beta and for being an awesome cheerleader; any remaining mistakes or inconsistencies are my own.

“They’re late.”

The Professor chuckled, glancing at the antique clock resting on the mantle over the fireplace in their rooms at Stark Tower. “They are not. They’ll arrive at the exact moment we did.”

“According to my watch, they’re late.”

“Perhaps you need to recalibrate your watch, darling,” the Professor said in amusement.

Magneto scowled. “The magnetic field of my watch is perfect, thank you. They’re late. They aren’t going to be here, and any moment I’m going to find myself thousands of miles away with an army of Brotherhood mutants, likely underdressed for the occasion, and probably somewhere like Belize. I hate Belize in the springtime. I will have no memory of the life I’ve lived as a martyr to the whims of the world’s most demanding, bossy, exhausting telepath.”

“ _Erik_ ,” the Professor laughed, reaching for the other man’s hand. “They’ll be here. You know they will, and you know it because _we_ were. We were right here, confused and disoriented and suddenly facing our future selves and a seemingly impossible situation. You’ll accuse me of using Cerebro to trap you in an alternate dimension, I’ll yell at you to stop being a prat, Tony will walk in at exactly the wrong moment and –”

The Professor was cut off by the firm press of Magneto’s lips against his own. He smiled softly as Magneto pulled away, recognizing the familiar warmth in Magneto’s gaze as Magneto rested his forehead against the Professor’s own. As the Professor cupped Magneto’s cheek in his palm, he had the thought that he would travel through endless eternities if it meant that he would always have the love he and Magneto had shared for what felt like an entire lifetime.

“Are you ready for this?” Magneto asked.

The Professor quirked an eyebrow at him in barely contained mirth. “Let’s find out.”

*

It wasn’t that Magneto was anxious. Not really. But in some ways, he remembered the things that were about to transpire as if they had happened to him just yesterday. This would change everything for him, the entire trajectory of his life as he knew it. It would define the man he would become. It would guide the way he fought to defend the rights of mutants and the way he looked at, and treated, humans.

It would return Charles to him.

Magneto stole a glance at his lover, who was sitting serenely beside him. He remembered how impossibly calm, competent and wise the Professor had seemed to his younger self. As he had gotten to know him, Magneto recalled feeling immeasurably proud of the man that Charles would become. He had been a little more uncertain when it came to his own self. Then again, Magneto had always kept his feelings much closer to the vest than the Professor ever did.

“Erik,” the Professor said softly, breaking him from his reverie. Magneto looked up and the Professor gestured to the middle of the room, where it looked like the air was wavering slightly, as if they were looking at the illusion of a mirage out in the sunlight.

Magneto found himself standing straighter, resolved to face this with as much dignity and quiet authority as he remembered himself possessing. The pressure of the Professor’s hand gripping his tightly was still a welcome anchor.

The mirage effect became more pronounced, drawing focus from everything else in the room, and suddenly, in a blinding flash of light that had both Magneto and the Professor covering their eyes, there they were: Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier, looking impossibly, almost painfully young and vulnerable.

Captain America himself had come by that morning to help clear the space of the living room so that when Erik and Charles arrived, they would land on nothing but the large Persian rug that covered the majority of the floor. Magneto felt a pang in his chest as he looked at Charles, newly paralyzed legs bent and twisted at an awkward angle as he lie there, blinking away the fog of confusion.

It was Erik who looked up first, sharp eyes taking in his surroundings before settling on Magneto and the Professor.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The Professor leaned slightly toward Erik, movements unthreatening, voice gentle as he said, “Erik, you’re –”

Charles groaned and Erik seemed to forget about anything else in that moment. Magneto watched ask Erik moved to Charles’ side, helping him into a sitting position and looking him over in poorly concealed concern, gently checking him for injuries. “Charles, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Charles shook his head. “No, I…” he looked around, brow furrowed in confusion. “What happened? Where are we?”

His eyes widened suddenly and his head whipped around to look at the Professor. They seemed to gaze at each other for endless moments, Charles’ expression no less shocked than it had been a moment before, and Magneto knew they were conversing telepathically.

Distracted as he was, Magneto almost forgot what happened next. Erik took advantage of all focus being on Charles and the Professor, survival instincts that had been honed during years of hunting Nazis kicking in as he reached out with his powers for the nearest metal objects in the room, flinging them toward the Professor and Magneto.

Magneto deflected them easily, almost laughing. It surprised him a little to remember just how much his powers _hadn’t_ grown at that point in his life, to remember that he had only just barely begun to scratch the surface of his abilities. It had gotten the attention of the Professor and Charles, though.

“Erik… Erik,” Charles stammered, turning to look at Erik with wide, earnest eyes. “You will never believe –”

“What the _fuck_ did you do, Charles?”

“I… what?” Charles was taken aback by the sudden accusation.

“Was this your plan? Did you use Cerebro to bring me here, to some strange place, some mental prison you can keep me in to stop me from doing the _right thing_?”

“Are you honestly… for God’s sake, Erik, how could you even think… you’re such an unbelievable imbecile sometimes, did you know that? I was trying to _help you._ Not everything in this world is about trying to undermine you or ruin your life!”

“Unless it has to do with you, of course,” Erik snapped, and in the moment of tense silence that followed, regret immediately etched itself onto his features as the color drained from Charles’ face.

“Hey Professor, Magnetic Wonder, have your “special guests” arrived yet? Because I’ve got this new prototype life model decoy thing that Banner and I would _really_ like to start messing with in the lab, and it isn’t that I don’t trust you, but you mentioned that the Mini Magnetic Wonder isn’t going to take very well to JARVIS and – oh, hey. Look at that, Professor, you have hair. Huh.”

Magneto managed not to bury his face in his hands, but only just.

*

Charles desperately willed himself to stay calm as his mind processed everything that had happened in the last ten minutes or so. One moment he had been lost in Cerebro and the sheer enormity of what he could do when he was connected to her, moving from mutant mind to mutant mind in hopes of finding the captured group that Erik and Raven were looking for. He hadn’t expected the mind he had brushed against, a young girl with an amazing and somewhat unheard of ability, at least to Charles: the power to manipulate time. He had taken a moment, just a moment, to stop and appreciate the uniqueness of her gift and the immense possibilities it possessed when they had somehow become linked, her hold on him flooding through his conscious awareness. He had been dimly aware of voices sounding from somewhere far away, the muted sensation of strong hands on him, and then nothing. Not until waking up in a strange place beside Erik, looking at the men that he and Erik would apparently become in about fifty years’ time.

The Professor, as he had asked Charles to call him, had wasted no time in easing the tumult of Charles’ mind and showing him the truth of where he was and what was happening to him. Snapshots of his life had played out before him like a film, the one he had already lived and the one he had yet to experience. The Professor had explained to Charles that he and Erik had been sent to the future through the power of that mutant girl, and that their time here was something of a crucial turning point in what would become the rest of their lives. He had given Charles a flash of memory, just a glimpse of a blue sky afternoon on the grounds of the manor, Erik’s damp eyes filled with a love that was breathtaking in its depth, and a ring being slid onto his finger.

It was then that Erik had thrown whatever metal his powers could grasp at Magneto and the Professor.

So now here they were, and with an odd, energetic man who’d introduced himself as Tony Stark looking between him and Erik as if he weren’t sure whether to be quietly amused or simply openly so.

“Stark,” he said, grasping for something, anything to say or focus on that would distract him from this strange new reality. “I’ve heard of your… father? Howard Stark. He knew my parents.”

“My dad knew a lot of people,” Tony said with what Charles felt was a forced nonchalance. Images flashed across his mind, unbidden and without warning, scenes from the life of a brilliant but lonely boy who sometimes wanted nothing more than for his father to look his way. Charles looked at Tony, his chest heavy with empathy, but he stayed silent. He would not burden this man by tying to soothe an old hurt that he himself knew all too well.

“I’m still waiting for someone to give me a goddamn explanation that actually makes sense,” Erik growled, having moved from their place at the center of the room to a large floor-to-ceiling window, the view overlooking a Manhattan that appeared both the same and yet very different to Charles’ eyes. Before taking up his new post, Erik had carefully lifted Charles up off the floor and into his arms, placing him on the nearby sofa as if he were something precious to be treated with utmost care. It had both warmed his insides and brought the familiar hurts he now associated with Erik to the forefront of his mind, and the dual expressions on the Professor and Magneto’s faces had only added to the confusion in his heart.

“If you expect me to believe that Charles and I have traveled to our future, that this is some sort of _gift_ granted to us by the universe, you are sorely underestimating my intelligence. Or perhaps I’m merely overestimating yours.”

“I see you were an even brighter ray of sunshine in your youth, Lehnsherr,” Tony remarked to Magneto with more cheer than a man being stared down by Erik’s nearly infamous aura of intimidation ought to feel.

“Although you, Professor, I must say, seem as lovely and charming as ever. And seriously, the hair looks good on you. Bruce and I could whip you up some growth serum in no time; I think a dashing, sophisticated salt and pepper might accentuate your features nicely. In fact, let me call him up here, I’m pretty sure the life model decoy is going to have to wait anyway. Did I tell you we’re going to try and make it look like Thor?”

Erik’s eyes narrowed and Charles caught a fleeting expression of exasperation on the face of Magneto as Tony pulled a sleek black device from his pocket, flipping it open and speaking into it. “Hey Banner, why don’t you come on up to Casa de Mutant, that whole Event with a capital E thing has happened and you’re gonna want to see this, the Professor has _hair…_ ” There was a muffled sound of what Charles thought was another voice, as if it were coming from the device itself, before Tony snapped it closed and slipped it back into his pocket.

Fascinating.

“Did you… communicate to someone, through that black box?” Charles asked. Tony blinked at him for a moment before he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh God, it’s Capsicle all over again. Oh, I can’t wait for you guys to meet, you can talk all about _The Wizard of_ Oz and paying five cents for gas and how much fun it is to churn butter.”

“What Tony means,” the Professor said, eyes kind and understanding as he looked at Charles and Erik, “is that yes, technology enables us to communicate with each other in a number of different ways today, not just through the post or the telephone. Think of what you just saw as a very advanced walkie-talkie.”

“A walkie… you know what, never mind, it doesn’t matter. Bruce will be right up to meet you guys. He’s, uh… I guess you could say he’s got a mutation of his own. Sort of.” Tony looked directly at Erik as he said, “Don’t piss him off.”

Erik looked back at Tony, even and dangerous, an expression Charles recognized as Erik holding back the anger and rage that was ever-present inside of him. “I’m not afraid of you, or your friends.”

Tony laughed again, looking over at Magneto. “My God, were you always this unbearable? I will never again accuse you of being a dreary old mutant who loves to wreck my stuff.” He turned his attention to Charles, pointing a finger at Erik. “Seriously, you love _this_ guy? Right now?”

Charles was momentarily stunned. _Of course_ he loved Erik, and how did this man even know that?

“Tony,” the Professor chided, and to his credit, Tony looked genuinely chagrined.

“Sorry. Sorry. Pepper says I need to work on my people skills. Of course you love him, I mean, you’re married now, so of course you loved each other in the past. Or the present, as it were.”

Charles didn’t miss the way that Erik’s gaze moved sharply to the Professor and Magneto’s hands and the wedding bands that were there. His face gave away very little, but Charles knew Erik well enough to know that the man was feeling the same waves of conflicting emotions that he was. In a strange way, it was a comfort to know that in that moment, they shared the same sense of both loss and joy.

Whatever may have happened next was laid to the wayside by the arrival of a man with dark, curly hair and a pair of thick glasses, dressed in jeans and button down plum shirt. He looked nervous, but the smile he offered Charles and Erik seemed genuine.

“Bruce! This is Bruce Banner, full-time genius and part-time rage monster. Bruce, that’s the Professor – I told you, hair! – and that’s Magnetic Wonder’s charming and magnanimous younger self,” Tony said.

“Hello,” Bruce said with a shy wave. Charles was instantly reminded of Hank, and suddenly he ached for his friends, wanting nothing more than for them to be with him in this strange new place. He hoped that they were all right and wondered, in the back of his mind, if they were here, in this time and place, and if he would get the chance to see them.

“This is… incredible,” Bruce said quietly, studying Charles and Erik as if they were newly discovered specimens to be experimented upon. “I mean, I’ve always believed that time travel is theoretically possible with all the right variables in place and a solid understanding of the physics behind the time-space continuum, but to experience it through the power of a mutation, to know that whatever happens from here on out, it will be what’s meant to happen, because the Professor and Magneto are standing _right there_ …” he pushed his glasses up his nose and laughed, the sound tinged with giddy disbelief.

“Unless we somehow deviate from the design, which would, of course, create a number of infinite possible timelines for us to suddenly find ourselves in.” Tony looked up at the younger Erik. “Don’t fuck up my present or my future, buddy.”

“He wears a suit made of iron, if that makes you feel any better,” Magneto offered to Erik in a dry, amused tone. Erik, for the first time since their arrival, smiled.

Tony looked incredulous. “Your smile is terrifying, has anyone ever told you?” He turned to Charles, looking away from Erik with an exaggerated shudder. “We have food, so when you’re hungry, you can just ask JARVIS. Oh, wait, you don’t know anything about JARVIS, and your creepy friend isn’t even going to like JARVIS, apparently, but I’m sure the Professor will explain it to you. Let’s go, Bruce.”

“Tony, I just got here,” Bruce muttered as Tony grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward the door.

“And I will be happy to ignore your lecture on manners once we get to the lab.”

Once they were gone, a somewhat awkward, uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“What’s a JARVIS?” Charles asked, and it was Magneto who answered, amusement evident in his voice. “JARVIS is Anthony’s computerized manservant, if you will. He’s… competent.”

The Professor laughed. “Erik has never liked JARVIS, Tony wasn’t lying about that. All you need to do is ask for something and JARVIS will help you as best he can. Tony has been kind enough to give the four of us the use of this entire floor, so there are rooms available to you, and Charles, we have a chair that you can use.”

Charles smiled gratefully at the Professor; it was one less thing to worry about, at least.

“You don’t actually expect us to stay here,” Erik said, looking at the Professor and Magneto as if they had grown two heads apiece.

“Where do you plan to go?” Magneto asked, leveling Erik with a steady gaze. “All of your friends are dead, away from here, or know that this is where you’re meant to be right now. The Professor and I are standing right here, living proof that we’ve gone through what you’re going through right now. We’re on your side, Erik.”

“No one is one my side,” Erik replied, turning his back to them as he once again looked out the window at the Manhattan skyline. “You of all people should know that, _Magneto_.”

Magneto sighed and turned to the Professor. “How you ever put up with me, I’ll never know.”

The Professor smiled and kissed the back of Magneto’s hand, looking up at him with open fondness. “And to think, just an hour ago I was the world’s most demanding, bossy, exhausting telepath.”

Watching them scraped at the pieces of Charles that were still raw to the touch. Was this really his future? Could he and Erik really find their way back to each other? Charles glanced over at Erik and noticed that he was watching the Professor and Magneto from their reflection in the glass.

He allowed himself to hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratitude and thanks once again to J for the beta -- you are das beste. Any remaining mistakes or inconsistencies are my own.

The Professor and Magneto took them to a room that was sparsely furnished yet tasteful and homey, decorated in warm Earth tones that Erik supposed were meant to be soothing. However, nothing about this strange place, this strange time, or this strange situation eased Erik’s nerves.

Erik’s room was across the hall, supposedly, but when the Professor had mentioned calling Tony to check and see if Charles’ chair was ready, Erik had felt a surge of protectiveness. He wasn’t about to let these people handle Charles, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Charles out of his sight.

“It’s fine,” Erik had said gruffly, moving to the sofa to once again lift Charles into his arms, just as he’d done to get Charles up off the floor. “Show me where.”

“Erik…” Charles said in gentle admonishment, yet he still wrapped his arms securely around Erik’s neck. To their credit, the Professor and Magneto said nothing, just looked at each other for a moment before the Professor nodded and the pair led the way to Charles’ room.

“Tony built this chair shortly after we met for… well, his first time, my second,” the Professor told them with a wry smile. “Built with Hank’s help, of course. Hank has always had a hand in my various chairs over the years, and as you well know, Hank can be quite stubborn when he wants to be.”

Erik felt the vibration of Charles’ soft chuckle, but his own smile was tempered down by the reality of the fact that Charles wasn’t the only one he had walked away from that day. Hank, Alex, Sean… he’d turned his back on them, too. The truth of that sat heavy in his chest.

“Is he all right? Is he happy?” Charles asked tentatively, voice a mixture of apprehension and hope.

It was Magneto who responded, and Erik was surprised at the genuine fondness in his voice. “You would be both amazed and delighted to see the exemplary mutant… and man that Hank has become.”

The Professor chuckled. “Exemplary in your eyes only when the two of you aren’t butting heads about anything from politics to what should be served for breakfast.”

“Cereal is not an appropriate first meal of the day,” Magneto sniffed.

Erik could feel the spike of amusement from Charles, nestled so closely in his arms, and he had to fight the twitch of his own lips. Despite everything, seeing the Professor and Magneto like this… it ignited something deep inside of him, the tiniest flicker of recognition that maybe, just maybe…

“Here you are,” the Professor said. “Erik, your room is this door just across the way. We’ll leave you to rest for now. Remember, should you need anything, just ask for JARVIS.”

They took their leave and Erik watched them go, the earlier warmth of a moment ago replaced with a pang in his chest as Magneto effortlessly guided the Professor’s chair with his powers, murmuring something that had the Professor throwing his head back in easy, earnest laughter.

Erik hadn’t just seen the eloquent bands around their fingers, he had _felt_ them, the metal humming and pulsating as sure as he felt the painful pressure in his heart at the knowledge that here, in this place, he and Charles were _married_ , had spent nearly their entire lives together. Happy. He had to look away.  He couldn’t look at them, couldn’t stomach the way Magneto had looked right through him since the moment he’d arrived, eyes sharp with awareness and something like pity. Erik had never needed another person’s _pity_ , and the fact that Magneto knew this all too well made it all the more maddening. The only other person who had ever looked at Erik with the quiet confidence of someone who knew him better than he knew himself was Charles.

Charles, who was right here, in his arms, and still felt miles away.

“Shall we?” Charles asked, uncertainty underlying the even tone he was attempting to convey. Erik nodded, stepping into the room before closing the door behind them with an audible click.

Erik placed Charles gently onto the bed, making sure he was settled comfortably before moving to pace on the rug in front of a large painting of a picturesque lake. He hadn’t missed the way that Charles’ breath had hitched as Erik had settled him on the bed, or the way his sharp eyes followed Erik’s movements now.

“We shouldn’t… we shouldn’t sleep alone,” Erik said after a long silence, the timbre of his voice rougher and more hoarse than usual.

“If you honestly still believe we’re in danger here, that I’ve somehow trapped you, why in the world would you want me in close proximity to you at all?” Charles asked, and there was no malice in the question, just honest curiosity.

Erik sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t… I don’t think you did this, and I’m… I didn’t mean the things that I said. Especially about…” Erik fervently wished he could take back those hurtful words, erase the look that had been on Charles’ face. _Unless it has to do with you, of course._

“It’s all right,” Charles said quietly, looking down at his hands resting limply in his lap. “I think in some ways, we’ve rather ruined each other.”

Erik held back the pained sound that threatened to spill unbidden from his lips. If only he could tell Charles the truth, that even now, after everything, Charles was still the best thing that had ever happened to him. It was difficult, watching Charles so… resigned to the distance between them. Charles, who had always so effortlessly and openly made Erik feel constantly wanted. Needed. Loved. Charles, who had always believed in them and the ways in which they were better together than they ever were apart. Charles, whose eyes had still looked at Erik with love even as Erik had gotten up and walked away from him that day on the beach.

“How is it,” Erik rasped, “that we can be right here, together, having just met our future selves, our future _married_ selves, and I’ve never felt further away from you?” Erik felt a thick, ugly ball of emotion clogging his throat and swallowed it back down mercilessly. He refused to lose control. Not here. Not now.

“You didn’t want to fight for us,” Charles said, still refusing to look at him. “You want to fight for all of mutant kind, but you have never once wanted to fight for us.”

“And you have?” Erik asked incredulously before he could think better of it, keep the words from flying unbidden from his mouth. “You sit in your mansion collecting mutant trophies you can shape and mold to be just like you. In six months, did you ever once try to find me? Find _Raven_?” Erik was glad when Charles flinched at his use of her old name, even if the gladness was quickly replaced by guilt. “No. We weren’t your little puppets to command and control anymore, so you wanted nothing to do with us!”

“How _dare_ you,” Charles hissed. “I aim to create a safe haven for mutants, where they can learn and adapt and grow into their abilities without fear. You create soldiers to fight in your imaginary war.”

“The war between humans and mutants is very real, Charles,” Erik said. “As always, you’re just too naïve to see it. Too blind to your optimism and your need for complete control, to have everything go your way.”

Charles’ eyes widened, red splotches appearing on his cheeks. “Oh, yes, I can see where losing Raven, my only family, and you, my best friend and my lover, and… _this,_ ” Charles gestured jerkily toward his legs, “is definitely having _everything_ go my way. Thank you, Erik, for clearing that right up.”

The burst of anger and pain from Charles’ mind to his own was surprising, but perhaps not entirely unexpected. Still, it cut through Erik’s insides like a knife, slicing and twisting until it hit something raw and painful, pieces of Erik that he had tried – and failed, apparently – to bury properly.

“No,” Charles continued. “I‘m sorry Erik, but you don’t get to be the righteous one here. You don’t. You… I wanted to spend my _life_ with you. Do you understand what that means? When I envisioned my future, I envisioned it with you! Not just my future, _our_ future. The two of us together, finding mutants, helping them, making this world a better place for them. With you by my side –”

Erik couldn’t help the flare of his own anger at those words, cutting Charles off before he could go any further. “I believe I’m the one that said he wanted you _by his side_ , and if you recall, you shut me down in a rather final way.”

Charles sputtered, at a loss for words; Erik took just a moment to enjoy the rarity of that. “Oh, please forgive me if I was a bit preoccupied at the moment!”

There it was again. Erik knew, deep down, he knew that Charles had forgiven him for the bullet, had maybe never even blamed him at all. It didn’t make the memory ache any less, or assuage the guilt that ate at Erik whenever he looked at a Charles who could no longer stand, whenever he saw firsthand the ways in which Charles still struggled to come to terms with what had happened to him.

The anger seemed to deflate from Charles as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him looking weary in a way Erik couldn’t remember ever having seen before. “I loved you so much,” Charles said softly, as if every word cost him a little piece of himself. “I still love you. If our future selves are any indication, I’m always going to love you. But Erik… you left me on that beach. You walked away. I couldn’t move, and I had to lie there and watch you walk away, watch every dream I’d ever had for me, for you, for the two of us, for… God, for Raven and Hank and Sean and Alex and the world… everything was gone, the moment you vanished. You took everything.”

“You told me we didn’t want the same things,” Erik said, voice strained. “You’re a liar and a coward. I wanted a life with you too, and that _is_ wanting the same things, Charles. The last time I’d ever wanted something so desperately was to move a coin to save my own mother’s life.” Erik was distantly aware that his voice had shifted into something like a low, feral sound, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The anger, the rage, so familiar and comforting, was buoying him, giving him strength. Courage. Power.

Charles looked as if Erik had struck him a physical blow, and Erik almost laughed – what more could he do to Charles’ body that hadn’t already been done by his own hand? To his credit, Charles recovered himself quickly enough. “You still walked away, Erik.”

“You didn’t give me any reason to stay, Charles.”

 _I should have been reason enough for you_. The thought ghosted across Erik’s mind, the briefest, barest touch, and Erik wondered if Charles had even meant to project it at all.

Aloud, Erik said, “And I should have been reason enough for you, too.”

Charles looked up at Erik then, finally holding his gaze, and Erik could see the tears Charles was trying to keep at bay as he worried his lower lip. “I wish… I regret not asking you to stay. I wanted to. I wanted to beg you, actually, not to walk away. To please not leave me, ever. But I was… I was scared and upset and when you shut me out with that… that wretched helmet… I felt so betrayed. To have your mind suddenly ripped away from mine, after all that we’d shared... it nearly ruined me. I was angry with you.”

Erik could see that the admission had cost Charles by the defeated slump of his shoulders and the heaviness between them that permeated the air.

Erik sat down on the bed next to Charles, nervous hands kneading the mattress. “Do you remember what you said to me, about men who were just following orders? I was angry with you, too.”

“Erik,” Charles said softly, reaching out with a tentative hand to gently brush his fingers through Erik’s hair. “It was a terrible thing for me to have said to you, thoughtless and unfair. I’ll not do you the disrespect of making excuses for myself, other than to tell you that I was panicked and terrified. Everything was unraveling so quickly, and the loss of your mind, even just the barest brush of it against my own, shattered my focus. That and…” Charles trailed off, mouth closing into a resolved line of silence.

“What? That and what, Charles?”

Charles looked at Erik for a long moment, his expression unreadable, the emotions in his eyes flickering and fluctuating so rapidly they may as well have been a maelstrom for all Erik could read them. Finally, Charles took a deep breath.

“I felt it, Erik.”

“Felt what?”

Charles’ voice was soft, and Erik suddenly felt waves of calm projected from Charles into his own mind as he said, “The coin.”

Erik felt his blood run cold. “What do you mean?”

“If I had let go of my hold on Shaw, he would have been in control of his own faculties once more. He would have been able to fight back, maybe even overpower you. When… when you pushed the coin into his head, into his mind… I felt it, as if it were happening to me, too. The pain. The terror. I felt him die, every moment of it. I’m so sorry, darling.”

Erik felt clammy and cold, and he registered somewhere in his mind that he was shaking as he stood up and moved away from Charles as if he had been physically burned. Charles had _felt Shaw die_ and yet he was the one apologizing to Erik?

“I never wanted you to know.”

“Why?” Erik rasped out, staring at Charles in disbelief. Erik _deserved_ to know this, that he had done more unforgivable things to the man he loved in a single day than any one person deserved in a lifetime.

The waves of calm that Charles was projecting came in stronger now, accompanied by even more powerful sensations of acceptance and forgiveness and _love_. Erik wanted to fall to the ground and shatter, completely.

“Because despite how I felt about it… I know what that man did to you. What he wanted to do to the world, to humans, even to other mutants. But mostly you, Erik. I meant it when I told you that killing him would not bring you peace. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t also feel that in some way, you deserved your vengeance. No, I didn’t think that killing Shaw would bring you peace. I had rather hoped…”

“What?” Erik’s heart gave a lurch, as if it knew what Charles might say next.

“I had rather hoped that you would be able to find your peace with me.”

Erik made a sound like a wounded animal as he strode back across the room, leaning down over Charles to crush Charles’ lips against his own. He held Charles to him like a buoy, a life preserver to keep him from drowning, just as Charles had done the night they met. Charles made a desperate noise against Erik’s mouth, hands moving to tangle in Erik’s hair, pulling him down to deepen the kiss as Charles’ warm, pliant lips opened beneath his own.

Warmth flooded Erik down to his very toes, his skin tingling with its vibrant brilliance. The press of their lips together spoke of possibilities that Erik had never even let himself dream of in the months since Cuba. He felt the gentle press of their minds touching again for the first time since their last night together at the manor all those months ago, and to Erik, the joyous spark of _Charles_ brushing against his consciousness felt a little bit like coming home.

*

At the other end of their floor at Stark Tower, the Professor and Magneto had settled comfortably in bed together, attempting a game of chess on the touch screen tablet Tony had given them “as a gift for bringing time travel into my life or, you know, whatever.”

“How anyone would find this preferable to the real thing is beyond me,” Magneto grumbled as he attempted to swipe his rook into place.

The Professor captured one of Magneto’s pawns, looking thoughtful as his finger absently tapped on the screen. “Do you think they’re all right?”

“Of course they’re all right. They’re _us_. I just can’t decide if I want to comfort them or smack their heads together,” Magneto murmured in quiet amusement against the Professor’s temple.

The Professor laughed, the sound a balm to Magneto’s soul, even after all this time. “Darling, you remember as well as I do that for the most part, we have to let them work it out for themselves without interfering. They’ll get there. We’re living proof of that, after all.” The Professor reached over to squeeze Magneto’s hand, and not for the first time, Magneto felt indescribably grateful for the second chance they had been given to set things right.

“What was it like, talking to your own mind?” Magneto asked, frowning down at the bright screen of the tablet. He was pretty sure the Professor had him trapped, and he was almost sure that the Professor knew it.

The Professor chuckled. “It was a surreal treasure, my love. Painful, to recall my mind as it was then, but I will always cherish the reminder of what it was to love you at the start of it all.”

“I’m very easy to love, you know,” Magneto remarked.

“Of course, darling,” the Professor said, eyes dancing with amusement. “Besides, if memory serves, we’re currently kissing each other senseless.”

Magneto placed a kiss on the Professor’s forehead. “I believe you’re right, _Liebling_. I had forgotten how dashing you look with a full head of hair.” As he ducked the Professor’s rather half-hearted attempt to swat him, he laughed in genuine delight, open and free.

*

Charles slowly floated up into wakefulness, and as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the first thing he was aware of was a warm, pliant body nestled at his side.

Erik.

Memories of the night before came rushing to the forefront of Charles’ mind -- their fight, and the kisses that had followed, at first urgent and desperate before shifting into something softer, more gentle. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and Charles noticed that at some point during the night Erik had covered them both with the blankets from the bed.

Erik’s soft, even breathing beside him was a comforting lull, and in that moment, Charles allowed himself to feel happy and content. He nestled closer to Erik, their foreheads brushing as he shared Erik’s pillow.

The moment was suddenly broken by a disembodied voice greeting him with a cordial, “Good morning, Mr. Xavier.” Charles couldn’t tell where it was coming from. The voice seemed to exist within the walls itself.

Erik immediately bolted upright, looking around, eyes sharp and alert. “What? Who’s there?” Charles tried not to smile at the sight of a disheveled Erik, his hair sticking up in various places all over his head.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s personal artificial intelligence system. I’ve been tasked to aid you in any way that I can, and have been informed by Mr. Stark that I am to let you know that breakfast is being served in the main dining room on the fourth floor.”

Erik and Charles both looked around the room, the source of JARVIS’ voice still eluding them.

“JARVIS, where are you?” Charles asked, at the exact moment Erik said, “You’re British?”

“Mr. Stark programmed my speech to be distinct, concise and professional, but I speak many different languages and dialects. Would you care to be spoken to in Spanish? Mandarin Chinese? Afrikaans? Or perhaps German, Mr. Lehnsherr? _Guten Morgen. Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen_?”

“Stop it,” Erik snapped, tossing the blankets aside and stepping out of the bed, looking around the room. “Answer Charles’ question. Where are you?”

“I am located entirely throughout Stark Tower, Mr. Lehnsherr. I am also programmed into Mr. Stark’s iron suits, as well as other relevant places of interest.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed. “You’re… what, a robot? An invisible robot? Charles, is this JARVIS a mutant? Can you read his mind?”

“I… there’s no one here but you and I. The Professor and Magneto I can sense on this floor, and there are other minds, mostly below us, but no… I believe that this JARVIS really is a kind of machine.”

“Artificial intelligence, Mr. Xavier,” JARVIS said, and was that a hint of haughtiness Charles detected?

“Go away,” Erik told him. Charles could sense Erik’s unease and projected a wave of calm toward him, just as he had done the night before.

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS said. “Please remember, as per Mr. Stark’s request, that breakfast is being served on the fourth floor.”

The room went quiet, and to Charles’ surprise, Erik shook his head as he started to laugh, the sound tinged with slight hysteria. At his raised eyebrow, Erik merely replied, “The future is a very strange place.”

Charles’ lips quirked up and suddenly Erik was beside him on the bed, brushing the fringe away from Charles’ face. “Thank you,” he said softly. “For… last night.”

Charles’ face softened as he reached up to cup Erik’s cheek in his palm. “Always, my friend.” What he meant was: you will always have me. I will always be here. I will always, always love you.

*

It was Bruce who delivered the chair to Charles, barely able to contain his excitement as he described its various features. “We built the frame with a bulletproof alloy, very similar to the material that Steve’s shield is made of. Steve being Captain America, of course.” He rubbed his hands together, smiling at them. “It was a bit of a challenge, trying to incorporate all the ideas of four rather different minds, but I think you’ll find that she’s sturdy, dependable and handles like a dream. We vetoed Tony’s proposal of armrests that doubled as flamethrowers.”

Charles laughed, cocking his head to the side as Bruce’s words set in. “Four? Yourself, Hank, Tony…”

“And me,” came Magneto’s voice from behind them, where he and the Professor had been waiting. “Barring the very first one, I have always had an input in the construction of your chairs.”

The Professor looked up at Magneto with a soft smile. “Erik’s input has saved my life on more than one occasion. Bruce, however, was the one who discovered that a much lighter metal was just as effective and much easier to handle.” The Professor smiled brightly at Bruce, and by the way Bruce ducked his head but smiled a genuinely pleased smile, Charles could tell that the Professor’s quiet confidence and effortless kindness commanded an easy loyalty, freely given. It was almost overwhelming, the knowledge of the kind of man he would one day become.

Erik helped Charles into the chair and he adjusted himself, getting used to the feel of it. It didn’t feel uncomfortable or like it would handle unreasonably. In fact, Charles marveled a bit at the way it felt like chair was molding itself to the shape of his body, like it was made for him and him alone. Charles smiled at Bruce, at everyone in the room. “It’s brilliant. Thank you.”

The Professor and Magneto led the way to breakfast, carrying on a friendly but spirited conversation with Bruce about the merits of stretchable fabric. “I’m not saying he’s approached the matter in any way resembling tactful, but Tony’s idea is somewhat sound.”

Bruce laughed. “Professor, the last thing I worry about in the midst of the change is whether or not my pants are going to rip. I worry more about the whole… lack of pants thing after the fact.”

Magneto shrugged as the elevator doors closed and they began the descent to the fourth floor. “It is your natural state, during your transformation and then after, is it not? You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

“Naked and proud, as my dear sister would say,” the Professor chuckled, and Charles couldn’t hold back his soft gasp at the mention of Raven.

The Professor turned to Charles with a gentle understanding in his eyes. “She is well. We speak often, and I’m sure it will delight you to know that she and Erik continue to make things as difficult as possible for me as often as they can.” There was warmth in the words, though, as if the Professor wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the elevator doors chimed open, a number of delicious smells assaulted them and Charles suddenly realized just how hungry he really was. The dining room was spacious and open, with hardwood flooring and more floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. The kitchen was nestled off to the side, and Charles could see a young man with chestnut brown hair frying up some hash browns as he spoke quietly to a taller, bulkier man who looked vaguely familiar.

Tony popped his head up from one of the sofas adjacent to the dining table and grinned. “Hey, Luscious Locks! Loving the chair.”

Charles laughed. “Thank you, Tony, it’s fantastic, and it was very kind of you to think of me.”

Tony scoffed and waved his hand in easy dismissal, as if he’d no more than handed Charles the morning paper. “It was mostly Bruce and McCoy, although Metalhead and I only almost killed each other once, so I feel that was making a huge contribution on our parts.”

The men from the kitchen had made their way over, the dark haired one wiping his hands on a kitchen towel before extending one toward them. “Hey, I’m Clint Barton. It’s nice to meet you, although I’ve already met the present you, or… the future you, so… nice to meet you again, maybe?”

The other man made a soft snort of amusement, but he also held out his hand to Charles, who took it, and Erik, who didn’t. To his credit, the man looked entirely nonplussed as he introduced himself. “I’m Steve.”

Charles’ eyes widened as he realized why the man had looked familiar to him. “You’re Captain America. I… forgive me, I’m afraid I’m at a loss for words.”

“There’s a first,” murmured Magneto, lips quirking up at both Charles and the Professor.

“Luckily, I _never_ have that problem,” Tony said with a grin as he got up and made his way over to the kitchen island, picking at a bowl of sliced melons. Bruce slapped his hand away and Tony scowled.

Magneto made a noise of amusement from behind them, and Tony threw his hands up. “Outnumbered, as always. I don’t even know why I let you people live here. Barton, you can stay, because nobody makes omelets the way you do, and of course I get Banner in the divorce, even if you do deny me melons.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Tony groaned, grabbing the bowl of fruit and stalking back to his place on the couch. “Mine.”

“You’ll have to forgive Tony,” Steve said with an easy smile that did something to Charles’ insides. He was honest to God looking at _Captain America_. “He doesn’t always come programmed with manners.”

“But he always comes programmed with awesomeness,” Tony replied, tossing a melon cube up into the air and opening his mouth to catch it.

“You’re really him,” Erik said quietly, studying Steve with intense, unreadable eyes. Steve nodded and Erik slowly rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to expose his forearm and the numbers branded there.

“I’ve never made it a habit of believing in much, but to a young, angry German-born Jewish boy… you were something else.”

Charles didn’t realize there were tears in his eyes until he was blinking them away. Steve looked like he wanted to hug Erik but then thought better of it, arms dangling awkwardly at his sides. Instead, he cleared his throat at Erik and nodded, standing up a big straighter. “It’s an honor, sir.”

A sharp look from both Bruce and Clint silenced Tony before he even had the forethought to speak, and Erik simply quirked a half-smile at Steve and inclined his head. “Likewise.”

Charles felt immeasurably proud of Erik in that moment, proud in the same way he had felt when Erik had finally, for the first time, touched the point between rage and serenity that day on the manor grounds.

Steve turned his smile to Magneto, features shifting into more of a grin. “I don’t know what these guys are talking about, you seem more or less the same to me.”

“You underestimate your considerable charm, Captain,” Magneto said wryly. “I do believe that, although he’s doing his best to hide it, Charles is about to swoon in your presence.”

Charles felt his face heat up, the flush of his cheeks worsening when Erik turned to him with an inscrutable gaze. He supposed he ought to be cross with Magneto, but it was such an _Erik_ thing to do that he couldn’t even find it in himself to be properly irritated with the man.

“He does look remarkably good for an old geezer,” Clint said with a laugh, returning to the kitchen to finish with the breakfast preparations.

“How is it that you’re here?” Charles asked, moving to the dining table where a space had been cleared for both himself and the Professor. “Did you also travel through time, like Erik and myself have?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Steve said, taking a seat across the table from Charles. Erik sat down beside Charles, who didn’t miss the casual brush of Erik’s hand against his own. “I flew a plane into the Arctic, where I was frozen for about 70 years. The serum that gives me my superhuman abilities factored into my survival, and here I am, de-thawed just in time to get roped into both the Avengers Initiative and Starkland.”

“Hey,” Tony protested, also joining the small group at the table. “You love it.”

“Being an Avenger? Absolutely.” Steve’s shoulders shook with silent mirth as Tony let out an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh.

Bruce helped Clint bring the food from the kitchen to the table, and soon everyone was tucking into their breakfast in a more or less comfortable silence. Charles was nearly bursting with all of the questions that he had for these men, for the Professor and Magneto, but he held back, not wanting to be rude or overstep his bounds with people, complete strangers, really, who had taken him and Erik in, no questions asked.

Erik, however, could always be counted on to be less than tactful. “The Avengers Initiative. Is that the name you give your cause?”

Tony shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of toast. “We call ourselves Avengers, yeah, just like your mutant buddies call themselves X-Men. That’s kind of how we met you, actually. Well, the older you. We saved the world from aliens and a batshit crazy God, kind of became a big deal, and the Professor thought it might be _prudent_ for us to meet, to become allies. His word, not mine. You, though, Mini Metal? The first time we met, you punched me in the face and then bent up my favorite suit… _with me still inside of it._ It took Banner two hours to get me out. And you’re still not sorry.”

Magneto raised one shoulder in an elegant, nonchalant shrug as he took a bite of waffle. “I have no regrets.”

Tony turned to Charles and said, “I have this theory that I do something during this whole shebang that must really set him off.”

“Other than being your usual charming self?” Clint asked with a grin.

“I take it back, Barton, I’m not keeping you, I’ll keep Natasha instead. Oh, wait, she and Pepper have that awkward… thing. Ok, yeah, I’ll keep Thor. Doesn’t come around much, exceedingly chivalrous, comes in handy during a storm…”

“Thor and Natasha are the other two members of the Avengers,” Bruce explained to Charles and Erik. “Natasha is on assignment at the moment somewhere in Asia, and Thor is… well, Tony mentioned that we defeated a God? It was Loki, Thor’s brother. Thor took him back to Asgard, where they’re from, to be tried for his crimes. He feels responsible for what happened with Loki, I think, so he spends a lot of his time back home, but he’s been back here a few times. He has an impeccable knack for showing up right when we need him.”

“Thor. Loki. The Norse legends? They’re real?” There was a note of skepticism in Erik’s voice.

Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “Erik, in a day’s time we’ve traveled fifty years into our future, met our future selves, met _the_ Captain America who survived being frozen alive for seventy some odd years, and conversed with a computerized man that lives in the walls. Is it so difficult to believe, at this point, that anything is possible?”

“Artificial Intelligence, Mr. Xavier,” spoke JARVIS’ voice from what sounded like the ceiling. Tony nearly choked on his orange juice.

*

Charles had insisted on helping with the clean-up, and while he chatted amiably with Bruce in the kitchen, Erik took a seat on the sofa Tony had been occupying earlier. This way, he could keep a close eye on Charles without looking painfully obvious about it. As he studied the easy, comfortable body language between Charles and Bruce, Erik had the thought that for all Charles had claimed he’d had no real friends before meeting Erik, he sure made them easily enough.

“Telepathy provides one with a unique advantage in casual social situations,” the Professor said with a quirky smile as he rolled up to the sofa beside Erik, Magneto at his side. Always at his side. Erik swallowed thickly.

“If this is the kind of situation that constitutes as casual, I question your definition of the word,” Erik replied.

There was no forthcoming reply from either man, and Erik got the impression that they were content to just sit there with him in total silence. He felt a flare of irritation as he said, “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not a child. Charles can act like everything is just fine all he wants; I know better.”

Magneto sighed. “Believe me when I say that just this once, it isn’t going to kill you to trust these people. You’re going to have to trust them if you ever want to leave here and return home.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face Magneto. “And why is it that the two of you don’t just tell us how to get back? Why keep us here, playing these games with us? I don’t care about these people. If I make the ill-advised decision to saddle myself with them in the future, fine, but right now, there’s no damn reason for Charles and I to be here.”

“There’s every reason for you to be here,” the Professor said quietly, and Erik felt inexplicably guilty at the wistful expression on the Professor’s face. “As for your question… I suppose the only answer I can give you is that fifty years ago, when we were the two of you, our older selves didn’t tell us much of anything, either. In fifty years, you’ll find yourselves in our place, doing the same. Such is the confusing nature of time travel.”

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He wanted to be back upstairs, wrapped up in Charles’ arms, kissing him like the last six months had never happened. Nothing else seemed to matter so much as that.

He could feel Charles’ eyes on him and he wondered if perhaps he’d projected the thought without realizing it. It had certainly happened enough times when they were traveling the country in search of mutants, their days filled with easy laughter and their nights with endless passion, falling in love across state lines.

Just as he was about to turn to face those impossibly blue eyes, the natural light coming in through the windows faded, skies outside darkening in a sudden cover of clouds. There was the slightest tingle underneath Erik’s skin, a strange buzz flowing through his veins before a flash of lightning blazed across the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

The buzzing sensation continued, becoming stronger and stronger as the storm outside seemed to increase in intensity, another crack of thunder shaking what felt like the very foundations of Stark Tower itself. Erik could sense the exact moment the buzz jumped from his skin to the steel skeleton of the tower -- he had never felt metal respond in such a way to anything before.

“Mr. Stark,” JARVIS said calmly, “it appears that Thor has arrived on the roof.”

“Well, let him in!” Tony cried, clapping his hands as he looked at Bruce. “Thor’s back, and you know what this means.”

“I do?” Bruce asked.

“I have three words for you, Banner: life model decoy. With Thor here to, like, _pose_ for us? It’s going to be perfect!”

“Technically, Tony, that was sixteen words,” Steve said, grinning.

“I hate you,” Tony replied without any real heat behind the words.

Before Steve could respond, the elevator doors opened, revealing a tall, formidable man carrying what looked like an unnaturally large metal hammer. Erik had to admit, he was an impressive sight to behold -- power radiated off of him in waves, crackling around him almost as if it were a physical entity. He stepped out of the elevator and looked around the room at all of them, brow furrowed in obvious distress.

“My friends,” Thor said gravely. “You are in great danger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guten Morgen. Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen? = Good morning. How can I help you?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief warning, Erik's (and possibly Tony's) actions in this chapter might be considered potentially ableist. That certainly isn't the intention I want to convey, but in the event that it reads that way, I thought I should mention it.
> 
> The Big Bad introduced in this chapter was taken from the Marvel comics universe, which I doubt I've followed to the letter, so any liberties or inaccuracies come from my own crazy brain!
> 
> As always: J, thanks for the beta and for allowing me to flail at you at all hours of the day and night about my nitpicks and worries. All mistakes or inconsistencies are my own.

Charles’ mind was a cacophony of darkness and pain accentuated by brief bursts of color, as if he were looking into a kaleidoscope. He could hear muffled voices and sluggishly forced himself to open his eyes, blurry shapes slowly coming into focus as he blinked rapidly. He tried to shake the fog from his mind, but the sudden, fresh burst of pain at the movement made him gasp aloud, gripping his head as if that alone could stop him from hurting.

“Try not to move, _Liebling_ ,” came Erik’s voice at his ear, quiet and worried. Charles looked up at him from his position on the floor -- how had he gotten there? -- and saw the concern on Erik’s features as Erik gently brushed a piece of errant hair off of Charles’ forehead. It registered then that he was in Erik’s arms. Charles felt it a cruel mockery of their final parting, yet Erik’s features were gentler this time. His eyes were concerned and afraid, but they were lacking the despair and finality of defeat from that day, an expression that had had Charles forgetting how to breathe.

“Are you all right, Charles?” Magneto asked evenly, and it was then that Charles noticed that Magneto and Steve were also kneeling beside him.

“I... what happened?”

“You tried to read Thor’s mind,” Steve replied with a wry smile.

Charles remembered the tall, almost otherworldly man who had emerged from the elevator with his grim warning. Charles hadn’t meant to touch the man’s mind, not really, but it was almost second nature to gently brush the minds of people he was coming in contact with for the first time. Thor’s mind had not been like the minds of other men, though, and even the barest touch had caused a spark of pain and a blinding flash of white light behind his eyes.

“I’m not sure who hit the floor first, you or Metal Boy here, trying to catch you,” Tony mused, peering down at Charles from behind Steve.

Charles turned his attention back to Erik, whose expression was strained, worry lines etched across his face.

 _You fell out of your chair, and I didn’t know..._ came Erik’s voice into his mind, and Charles could hear the distress as plainly as if Erik had spoken aloud. Charles felt his eyes tighten, emotion pricking hot and wet at the corners as he realized this was the first time he and Erik had spoken into each other’s minds since their parting.

_Shh. It’s all right, darling. I’m all right._

Steve and Erik helped Charles back into his chair, Erik keeping a casual hand on Charles’ shoulder, and Charles brushed at his pants before smiling sheepishly at everyone. “Please accept my sincerest apologies. I didn’t, ah...”

“Mean to go poking around in the mind of a God?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Forgive me, tiny Professor,” Thor said with sincerity, concern etched onto his face. “Asgardian minds are somewhat different from those here on Midgard.”

“No, I’m the one who is sorry, my friend. It’s a terrible habit of mine, I’m afraid.”

“Thor, you said we were in danger?” Clint asked, shifting the focus back to the matter at hand.

Thor nodded, setting his hammer down. “Heimdall has had a vision of a great and total destruction about to befall this planet by the hand of a dark, powerful being. He is called Galactus. He is a devourer of worlds, and he wishes to devour yours.”

“Oh, he wishes. How polite,” Tony snorted. He turned to the Professor and Magneto. “Do we have to rev up the magic school bus and go find out about this guy, or are you going to save us all the trouble?”

“He is what Thor says,” Magneto said. “An otherworldly being, perhaps a God in his own right, who devours entire worlds: planets, galaxies, large bodies of mass, it doesn’t matter to him. His purpose is not driven by evil or vengeance or destruction... it is merely to satisfy his insatiable, unyielding hunger.”

Charles felt a chill raise the hair on his arms. Erik’s grip on his shoulder tightened; it was a small, almost imperceptible thing, but Charles felt it nonetheless and was grateful.

“I have been told that Galactus will stop at nothing to get what he desires,” Thor said. “And what he desires now is Earth. I am brought forth to Midgard once more, sworn to protect this great place just as I am sworn to our cause.”

“Well, protecting the world and our cause are kind of the same thing, but --” at the nearly identical looks from Clint and Bruce, Tony raised his hands. “All right, fine, splitting hairs, I get it.”

Bruce shook his head in what looked a lot like fond exasperation to Charles and approached Thor, clasping him on the shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Despite the unfortunate tidings I bring forth, it feels a victory to be among you all once more,” Thor told them. His smile was genuine, but to Charles he looked tired, as if he carried more than just the weight of terrible news on his shoulders. He recalled what Bruce had said, about Thor bearing the burden of guilt for the things his brother had done.

“Do you know when Galactus is going to make his move?” Tony asked Thor before cocking his head, not even waiting for a reply before he turned his attentions back to the Professor and Magneto. “You two know. You know exactly when Galactus is going to show up. How come you aren’t telling us every single thing we need to know to stop an alien from _eating our planet_? I was under the impression that I’d be playing host to your clueless counterparts, not _suiting up_.”

“If you’re suggesting that Charles and Erik traveling here triggered the arrival of Galactus, I can assure you that the two events are entirely unrelated and merely coincidental,” the Professor told Tony calmly. “You will be glad to have them here when all is said and done. Galactus will be here in five days’ time. I suggest you rally your Avengers and put in a phone call to Mr. Fury.”

“Fuck,” Tony muttered. “Barton, I’m not calling Fury. I nominate you.”

Clint shook his head, lips quirking. “Not a chance, Stark. I work with the guy on a near-daily basis. It’ll be good practice for you to make nice. Work on those people skills of yours.”

“I don’t play well with others. It’s in my file.”

Erik laughed, sharp and sudden, and Charles jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. Everyone turned to look at them, but Erik remained cool and collected under the scrutiny. “I don’t plan on helping you take on some kind of galaxy eating God, and I _certainly_ don’t intend to let you drag Charles into what sounds like _your_ problem.”

“Erik,” Charles admonished, but Erik ignored him.

“Seriously? I’ve had just about enough of you,” Tony snapped, shifting his stance so that he and Erik were looking at each other face-to-face.

“Oh boy,” murmured Bruce.

“What do you think is going to happen to you if this planet is destroyed and you’re still here? Do you think you’ll return to the sixties and peace and love and flower power and that’ll be it? Sorry, buddy, you don’t get to play that game. You see Magneto over here?” Tony asked, jerking his thumb in Magneto’s direction. “He and I might tolerate each other on a good day, but he sure as hell isn’t about to abandon his friends, his husband, his _home_ just because he wants to fucking run scared. Here’s an idea: why don’t you untwist your panties and try to be a little more like the man you’re supposed to become instead of the entitled asshole you actually are?”

“Erik, calm your mind,” Charles said softly, immediately; he didn’t need his telepathy to know that Erik’s stiff stance and the taut lines of his face indicated a barely contained rage simmering to boiling point. Erik looked poised to strike, much like a snake, before his body went suddenly, eerily still, jaw going slack, expression blank. His eyes, though – his eyes looked horrified. And furious.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” the Professor said quietly, and Charles realized with something unpleasant twisting in his gut that the Professor was controlling Erik with his mind. He felt horror creeping up on him as the reality of how quickly things were falling apart settled over him.

“Stop,” he begged the Professor, out loud and then with his mind. _Please. Please, let him go. Anything but this, please, I promised him. You know that. WE promised him. Please!_

Charles knew he had no fighting chance against the Professor when it came to telepathy. Even if the Professor weren’t far more powerful than he was, anything he did would be expected. For the first time since their arrival, Charles felt something like helplessness at the knowledge that he and Erik had no ground on which to stand in this time and place.

_Charles, I know this is difficult for you. Believe me when I tell you that it is not pleasant for me, either. But Erik must work with us, not against us. You and he are necessary to the survival of us all. Do you understand? You are the only one who can reach him._

Charles thought it was possible he might choke on his despair. _How can I possibly convince Erik to be on our side… on_ my _side… when I failed so spectacularly the first time around?_

The Professor didn’t reply, instead giving Charles a knowing, encouraging smile before releasing his hold on Erik. Erik let out a feral snarl and stalked toward the elevator, doors bending open at his will before he reached them. As Erik disappeared behind the closing doors, Charles fought the urge to bury his face into his hands. The hope that had buoyed him at seeing the Professor and Magneto cocooned in a happiness that was, at times, unbearable to watch dimmed in the face of the cold, hard reality that he had to do this, he had to make Erik see reason. In turn, he had to see Erik’s reason as well. They had to reach a compromise, one that would shape the rest of their lives.

And then, after that small hurdle, defeat a world-eating monster.

*

As the elevator sped to the top floor of Stark Tower, Erik reached out to feel the metal thrumming through the foundations of the building, wondering how much power it would take to bring the entire thing down, damn the consequences to hell.

As furious as he felt, though, Erik knew he could never do it. Not with Charles in the building, defenseless and with no easy way out. As the elevator came to a stop, Erik forced all thoughts of Charles out of his mind. It wouldn’t do to dwell on him. Not when Erik knew he’d already fallen right back into the traps he’d taken such care to shield himself from back home. Charles Xavier was, and always would be, his weakness. Not for the first time, Erik wished his helmet had made the journey to the future with him.

“Mr. Lehnsherr, the top floors of Stark Tower are under restricted access. I am unable to permit you entry.”

JARVIS. Wonderful. Being stuck in an elevator with Tony Stark’s infernal automated manservant was just about the last thing Erik wanted at that moment, or any moment, ever.

“I don’t really care. He told you to give me whatever I wanted, didn’t he? Well, I want to get as far away from those people as possible. Take me to the damn floor.”

“Command override, follow Stark directive as pertains to new guests. Command accepted. _Sehr gut, Herr Lehnsherr_.”

“I will find a way to destroy you,” Erik ground out as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Erik stepped out into a spacious, luxurious penthouse. As much as he disliked the man, a small part of Erik couldn’t help but admire the way that Tony Stark lived as large as he damn well pleased.

After a cursory glance around the main room, Erik noticed large glass doors that led out onto the outer rim of the building and he moved forward, hand reaching out almost without conscious thought. The doors opened toward him effortlessly and he stepped outside, breathing the fresh air deep into his lungs, trying to calm his frazzled nerves.

Despite his resolve not to think of him, Erik couldn’t stop his mind from picturing the horror on Charles’ face as he realized the Professor was controlling Erik and the way he had pleaded for the Professor to let Erik go.  It had been an unpleasant experience, being completely robbed of all semblance of control, and it had reminded him painfully of those first days with Shaw as a young boy. He’d been furious and betrayed at the Professor’s breach of trust ( _not your Charles, not your Charles, not yet_ his mind whispered), but underneath it all, he had felt awed at the sheer depth and scope of what Charles would one day be capable of. He’d felt a stab of regret that they weren’t putting their considerable abilities to good use, together.

But Charles hadn’t wanted Erik to be under the Professor’s control. All of Erik’s greatest fears about Charles and the ways in which Charles could defeat him on the inevitable day they’d have to fight as adversaries instead of allies, the things he’d worried over in the middle of the night as the Brotherhood moved from place to place… all of that, and Charles had seemed more upset by the mind control than Erik had been.

He could feel the elevator moving back up through the building from the fourth floor, and with a wave of his hand the doors to the observation deck swung close, lock clicking into place. Whoever it was, he wasn’t in the mood.

It was Charles, of course, who emerged from the elevator, wheeling himself over to the glass doors and knocking gently, despite the fact that Erik could see him just fine. He smiled and gave Erik a little shrug. The sudden wave of feeling for Charles that crashed over Erik left him breathless.

“Mr. Xavier has arrived on the penthouse level. He was rather more polite about gaining access,” JARVIS informed him.

“You sound awfully petulant for a robot,” Erik noted, feeling a smug sense of victory when JARVIS remained silent. A part of Erik registered that it was fairly ridiculous to feel triumphant over a machine.

“Erik? May I join you?” Charles asked, the sound muffled by the glass between them. The idea of Charles out on the deck, higher up than most buildings in the entire city, exposed and vulnerable without legs to stand on, left Erik feeling cold and clammy. He unlocked the doors and stepped hastily back inside.

“Let’s return to our rooms?” Erik suggested. Charles nodded and they made the descent in the elevator in silence. Erik could sense Charles’ nerves as if they were jumping off of him and onto Erik, dancing atop his skin.

“In 1963, the Dodgers won the World Series. They were the Los Angeles Dodgers at this point in time, a fact that still behooves Mr. Rogers to this day. The series was won in four games, and Sandy Koufax was named the most valuable player,” JARVIS offered, breaking the tense silence.

“I… what?” Charles asked, and the confusion on his face was endearing enough to outweigh Erik’s annoyance at the mere presence of JARVIS at any given time and place. _Stop it_ , Erik told himself.

“Mr. Stark has implemented a prototype command in my mainframe that allows me to share historical facts. Mr. Rogers finds it most helpful. I am to understand that you come from the year 1963. In 1963, Lawrence of Arabia won the Oscar for best picture and The Beatles released their first album in the UK.”

“The who?” Charles asked as Erik rolled his eyes, not at Charles, but at the never-ending prattle from a machine that was proving to be just as irritating as its maker. Despite his trepidation at the imminent conversation between himself and Charles, he was glad when the elevator let them out onto their floor.

It wasn’t until they were back in Charles’ room, door closed, that Charles finally spoke. “Are you all right?” The worry was written so plainly on his face that Erik had difficulty not feeling touched by Charles’ obvious concern.

Erik shrugged. “It was… unpleasant. But as you can see, I’m fine.”

“Oh my darling, you’re not. Neither of us is. I don’t think we have been, not since Cuba.”

Erik inhaled sharply. “No. I suppose not.” He paused for a moment. “Time travel. World devouring Gods. Tony Stark.” Erik couldn’t help but laugh. “Is this really our future?”

“I hope so,” Charles admitted softly. “I rather think that in a future where I’ve spent my life at your side... I can face anything.”

Erik closed his eyes against the onslaught of feelings threatening to tear him apart, trying desperately to push them away, because this was too much. It was too painful. He couldn’t do this. “Why didn’t you come with me? _Why_?” he rasped.

“You know why, Erik. I’m not a killer. And neither are you. There are other ways to achieve your goals. Other means to your ends. You took your vengeance upon Shaw; you don’t have to _become_ him.”

“I am _nothing_ like him,” Erik growled, turning to face Charles, who didn’t even flinch. Erik was oddly proud of him for that.

“Then prove it,” Charles challenged. “Help us fight. We can be the better men, remember? I’ve never stopped believing that you have within you a great capacity for good, Erik. Your life doesn’t have to be mired in darkness.”

“I won’t let you fight with them, fight for a life that isn’t yours, in a time you don’t belong,” Erik said, voice strained.

“That isn’t your choice to make. And this _is_ my life, Erik. One day, this will _be_ my life. _You_ will be my life. Don’t you want that?”

The note of uncertainty in Charles’ voice threatened to ruin Erik, utterly and completely. Hadn’t they wrenchingly had this out the night before? Didn’t Charles _know_ , without question or doubt, that he was the sun to which Erik’s very existence orbited?

Before Erik could even begin to formulate a reply, there was a gentle knocking at the door before it opened and the Professor made his way in.

“Pardon me, gentlemen,” he said amiably. “If I might have a word with Erik?”

Charles looked unsure, he and the Professor clearly having a conversation that Erik wasn’t privy to. Finally, Charles nodded and looked at Erik, holding his gaze before he said, “I’ll be just down the hall.” _And remember, my love: calm your mind._

Once Charles was gone, Erik turned to face the Professor, arms crossed against his chest. “Are you here to make your puppet dance some more, then?”

“Oh Erik,” the Professor sighed, wheeling himself over to the chess table that had been set up prior to their arrival. “Come, sit with me. Let’s have a game.”

“I’d rather not,” Erik said curtly, remaining where he stood, resolved to neither back down nor be intimidated by this man who was both the Charles he knew and a complete stranger all at once.

“Erik,” the Professor said gently, and Erik could sense that the Professor was aware that he had to tread carefully here. The Professor laughed in soft amusement, picking up on Erik’s trail of thought. “It’s easier, holding conversations with Charles. After all, I’ve already lived them once. I know what both versions of myself are going to say at any given moment, which makes things rather effortless and easy. With you, though? Talking to you, this younger you… it’s more about relying on instinct than memory. I know you don’t trust me. I know you don’t trust anyone. I apologize for what happened downstairs, but it had to be done.”

“See, there you go again,” Erik hissed, uncrossing his arms as his hands balled into fists. “You’re so _arrogant_ sometimes. You always have to be right. Things always have to be done your way. Isn’t it exhausting, being that sanctimonious all the time? Jesus Christ.”

To his surprise, the Professor laughed. “Nothing makes me feel quite as humbled as a dressing down from you, Erik.”

“So even now, I’m still telling you what an ass you are?” Erik asked before he could think to stop himself.

The Professor’s eyebrows quirked up in amusement. “Only about as often as I tell you the same.” His eyes softened after a moment, and he regarded Erik with an expression that made Erik feel naked and exposed. “Erik, if you trust one and only one thing, you must trust me when I say that I have loved you from the moment my mind first touched yours, and that love has been constant and unwavering ever since.”

The sudden and overwhelming sense of desperation and hopelessness that Erik felt had his next words tumbling unbidden from his mouth. “How is it that you ever possibly forgave me? That we came to forgive each other?” In his mind, Charles was falling to the sand all over again, body moving in slow motion, scream echoing in Erik’s ears. That echo was then replaced by Charles’ voice, _They’re just following orders_. Would Charles have said that about the men who stood by and watched as Sebastian Shaw murdered his mother? It suddenly didn’t matter that he and Charles had dared to approach these painful things the night before. How were they ever going to get past it if neither of them could let it go?

“Oh, my darling,” the Professor said softly, voice tinged with regret. Erik realized he must have been projecting his thoughts onto the Professor without realizing it. Again. Erik moved away from him, feeling unsteady and unsure and _angry_ , always so much anger in his heart, despite Charles Xavier always doing his damnedest to keep it at bay, to keep Erik’s heart safe as if it were something worth protecting and not a broken, damaged organ beyond repair.

“That can’t be news to you. Not if you’ve lived through this and ended up married to me on the other side of it. It shouldn’t be, given our talk last night. Fuck.” Erik ran an errant hand through his hair. “Of all people, I thought you understood. For you to say that to me, to...” Erik laughed, sharp and bitter. “It doesn’t matter. This is never going to work. We’re too different. I want to bring this world to its knees. You seem determined to save it.”

“Of course it’s going to work, Erik. I’m living, breathing proof of that. We both are, Magneto and I. You already know, in your heart, that I don’t blame you for what happened on the beach. Just as I forgave the loss of my legs, you will forgive a young man words spoken without thought in the midst of a crushing desperation and fear that he was about to lose every single thing that had ever truly mattered to him.”

Erik laughed again, but there was no humor in it, only sadness. “Why is it that you can tell me these things, but he can’t, unless it’s in anger? Why is it that I’m just as incapable of being honest with him? For two people who know each other as well as we do, we don’t really know each other at all, do we?”

The Professor seemed to mull that over for a moment. “I’ve always known your mind, Erik, through both my gift and the connection that we have shared right from the start. But... you asked me, when we first met, not to invade your mind. If I seem like I don’t know what to say to you, that I don’t know what you’re thinking... it’s because I’m doing my very best to keep that promise to you.”

“He was horrified, when you controlled me with your mind,” Erik murmured.

The Professor nodded. “The Charles sitting outside this room is drowning in his regrets, much like you were in your vengeance, albeit a bit more literally, the night we met. I saved you then. Your Charles? He could rather use some saving of his own right now.”

*

Charles decided that the best course of action would be to distract himself as best he could -- otherwise, the temptation to either eavesdrop on Erik and the Professor, or worse, interfere in whatever was happening between them, would be too great. Charles was self-aware enough to recognize that he had a tendency to be… well, Sean used the word ‘meddlesome’. Alex’s ‘control freak’ was less polite, but perhaps more accurate.

Moving around the large living area, which had been put back together since their arrival, Charles studied the various gadgets and trinkets spread throughout the room. He picked up a long, thin piece of durable… plastic? It looked a lot like a television clicker to him, only with many, many more buttons. He pushed a couple. Nothing happened.

“Try the power button. It’s the big red one at the top.”

Charles looked over, unable to stop himself from returning Magneto’s amused smile with a bashful one of his own. “Nothing will explode, I hope?”

Magneto laughed and sat down in one of the plush armchairs surrounding the fireplace. “No. You’ll turn the television on, is all. It will likely astound you, how far the technology has come, but I think you’ll find the programming of today a bit… lacking.”

Charles chuckled to himself at the dry tone of Magneto’s voice as he set the remote back down, turning in his chair to face the older man. There were so many things he wanted to ask, wanted to say. Where to even begin?

“You’re looking at me in that way of yours, the one that says you want to say something that you’re not sure I’ll respond kindly to, and you’re wondering how to best phrase it.”

“I…” Charles could feel his face reddening, and Magneto’s easy, open laughter was both beautiful and a little frightening -- it was so unlike Erik, _his_ Erik, to be so seemingly happy and carefree.

“Charles Francis Xavier,” Magneto said, and there was no mistaking the fondness in his voice. “I am, even now, an obnoxious, stubborn bastard. I have very little patience for very many things. But you, my dear, happen to be the love of my entire life, and anything you say to me is welcome.”

Charles bit his lower lip at those words, fidgeting with his hands on his lap. “I was just feeling… guilty.”

Magneto tilted his head, studying Charles with that sharp, intelligent gaze of his. “Guilty?”

Charles nodded. “I’m so… comfortable with you. At ease. You make me laugh. I like listening to what you have to say. You’re smart and sharp and witty and you’re not at all afraid to give Tony Stark a piece of your mind, even if he might murder you with a plastic robot. Why don’t I… feel that way about _my_ Erik?”

“Ah.”

“I want to! I want… there are so many things that I want. I want this distance between us to be gone, this rift to be mended. I want that day in Cuba to have gone differently, or to have never happened at all. I want to still be driving across America, looking for mutants, laughing and telling stories on the road during the days, making love to each other during the nights. I want to…” Charles swallowed the lump in this throat, “I want to walk again. I want to have made the right decisions when it came to you. When it came to Raven. I feel as though I’ve made such an unbelievable mess of everything. I used to think I had all the answers, but now it’s painfully obvious to me that I know nothing at all.”

“You’re being a little hard on yourself, don’t you think?” Magneto asked. “Mystique and I have always burdened our fair share of culpability. Your problem is that right now, I still think I haven’t done anything wrong. Let me fill you in on a little secret, Charles: I’m an idiot.”

Charles laughed, reminded of the easy way he used to laugh with Erik once the man had let some of his walls down and taken Charles into his bed, and maybe even into a little piece of his heart.

Magneto titled his head at the sound of Charles’ laughter and said, “The reason you enjoy my company at present is because I remind you of the man you fell in love with before things fell apart so badly. Let me fill you in on another secret: your Erik is still that man. You’ve always been so much better with words than I have, but… you should know that there is a man named Charles Xavier who saved my life, that night in the water. He didn’t have to. But he dove into the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean to rescue a complete stranger and then offered him friendship, trust, companionship, and ultimately love. It wasn’t just my life that was saved that night. It was also my soul, whatever pieces of it were left. I‘ve always been a little bit broken, Charles, but you‘ve made me as whole and complete as I think it can ever be possible for me to be.”

Charles closed his eyes tightly as tears began to track slowly down his face. He didn’t understand how it was possible to feel such joy and such pain all at once, to feel so much and so deeply and still be stitched together instead of bursting apart at the seams. “I love you,” he gasped. “I love you so much. _So much_. I’ve never stopped. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. I thought I was going to die that day, that the sight of you vanishing into thin air might actually be my undoing. I’ve grieved you as if you were dead. I wake up some mornings and for a moment I’m certain that joining your cause is the right decision, the _only_ decision. I might hate you for so utterly ruining me, but it’s impossible for me to do anything but love you with everything that I am, no matter what.”

Magneto didn’t say anything and Charles buried his face in his hands. He looked up when he felt a soft, tentative hand cupping his cheek.

“Charles,” Erik said quietly, voice rough, and Charles could see the moisture pooling in Erik’s eyes.

“How long have you been listening?” Charles whispered as Erik gently wiped a tear from Charles’ cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Just in time to hear Magneto spilling the secret of our idiocy,” Erik said, lips quirked up in a half-smile. “He… possibly has a point. Maybe.”

Charles laughed, more tears spilling from his eyes as he leaned into Erik’s touch. He was desperately trying to calm himself, control his emotions, but it was as though something inside of him had broken open without warning. He could feel a sense of sadness and melancholy coming from the Professor and Magneto, who had quietly moved from the armchair to join his husband -- it was an echo of an ache that had him feeling for them in sudden sympathy. Reliving these memories couldn’t be easy for them.

Erik was peppering feather light kisses on his face, murmuring against Charles’ skin. “You impossible, stubborn, beautiful, _ridiculous_ man.”

Charles thought about Magneto’s earlier words and turned his face so that the next of Erik’s kisses landed on his lips. It was brief, soft, sweet, and utterly, painfully perfect -- one single moment in time that spoke a thousand words. Erik’s eyes were the color of the sea after a storm as he pulled back to look at Charles, hand still cupping Charles’ face.

“We’re going to stay,” he said to Charles, voice strong with conviction. “We’re going to fight. And then we’re going home and we’re going to have a long, long conversation about how exactly it is that we’re going to compromise and reconcile our beliefs and our goals into something that works for the both of us. I’m going to move myself back into that ridiculously large behemoth you call a house, Alex will probably try to maim me with plasma at least twice, you’re going to allow me to use that garish old conservatory on the main floor as a headquarters for my re-imagined Brotherhood, I’ll _consider_ teaching your students something useful, and we’re going to start building the life we’ve glimpsed here. The life we get to have _together_. Do you understand, Charles?”

Charles looked at Erik in something like wonder as happiness burst through his chest and spread throughout his entire body. He was smiling brightly, tears still flowing but happily so. “Of course I do. I always knew you were only after me for the manor. It is, after all, a prime piece of real estate.”

Erik laughed, the sound hitching at the end. Charles leaned forward and pulled Erik into his arms, clinging to him tightly as they embraced. It wasn’t a fix-all, and Charles knew they still had quite a way to go, that there was still more to be said. But it was a start, and in that moment, to Charles, it was perfect.

*

Erik found Tony in one of his R&D labs on the eighth floor with Bruce, tinkering with what looked like a giant automaton.

“Mr. Lehnsherr, allow me to introduce Mr. Stark’s latest creation, a life model decoy that, when complete, will resemble a human being so closely it will be nearly imperceptible from the real thing,” JARVIS supplied unprompted, and was that fucking _cheerfulness_ that Erik heard in his voice?

“Not nearly imperceptible, JARVIS. It will be completely imperceptible, thank you very much,” Tony said, not looking up from the gadgetry he was tinkering with as he addressed Erik. “Here to throw another temper tantrum?”

“If I recall, you did most of the talking,” Erik said.

“He’s got a point,” Bruce commented, waving a screwdriver in Tony’s general direction. Tony popped his head up to look over at Bruce with a scowl. “Really starting to re-think that whole keeping you in the divorce thing.”

“You always say that,” Bruce said with an amused grin.

“I always mean it,” Tony countered before finally looking over at Erik. “And you deserved what I said, by the way. You’re an asshole.”

“I believe there’s a saying popular with children that goes something along the lines of it takes one to know one?”

Erik may have imagined it, but he thought he detected the slightest upward quirk of Tony’s lips. “Touché.”

“I’ll help you fight Galactus,” Erik told him. “If I’m still around to tell the story, things obviously work out in our favor. I think you’ll find me to be a valuable asset in battle, and I can also help you tweak some of your more… difficult inventions into cooperating. It’s a mere matter of shifting and altering the molecules and properties of the metals you’ve been using.”

“Oh, a mere matter, is it? How nice for you,” Tony muttered. “How did you even know about any of that?”

“Your… JARVIS talks. A lot.”

“All right,” Tony said, giving Erik a calculating gaze. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not offering to help us out of the goodness of your great big heart?”

Erik grinned, taking no small amount of satisfaction at the way Tony flinched. “You’re an astute man, Mr. Stark, I’ll give you credit for that. When Galactus arrives? When we fight? I want Charles as far away as possible. I don’t care if you have to fly him away from here in one of your outlandish private airplanes. I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you need of me, if you can promise me that Charles will be safe.”

“Your Charles doesn’t really strike me as the type of guy who’s going to take too kindly to being shuffled off like some damsel in distress without any say in the matter,” Tony remarked.

“Do we have a deal or not?” Erik countered. Oh, Charles would be _furious_ , but Erik couldn’t bring himself to care. Not after he’d heard everything that was in Charles’ heart. Not after they’d kissed again. For the first time, he could see a real, tangible way back to the man he loved, and he would be damned if he let anything in this world or any other jeopardize that.

“You’ll figure out why the engine in my prototype Starkcycle keeps blowing up after sixty some-odd miles of travel?” Tony asked, observing Erik with a shrewd gaze. Erik inclined his head in acquiescence and Tony held out his hand.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sehr gut, Herr Lehnsherr = Very good, Mr. Lehnsherr.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read, comment or leave kudos -- this is truly a fantastic, wonderful fandom and I'm very glad to be part of it!
> 
> J, you are invaluable and you have my gratitude as always for your beta work and your endless support! Any remaining mistakes or inconsistencies are my own.

Erik knew it was inevitable, but that didn’t mean he was any more prepared for it when he returned to his and Charles’ shared floor to find Magneto there, alone.

“Where are Charles and the Professor?” he asked warily.

Magneto shot him an amused glance that Erik didn’t appreciate. “They’ve gone to visit with Thor on his floor. Charles was fascinated by Thor’s tales of bilgesnipe and the science behind Bifrost.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“A difficult task indeed,” Magneto said wryly.

Erik clenched his fists. “If you’re the kind of man I end up as, the kind who would derive pleasure from the misery of his own self, then thank God Charles can’t walk, otherwise he’d have no use for us!” Erik regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, and the way Magneto went completely still, expression shifting from amusement to blank mask, didn’t bode well.

“Sit down, Erik,” Magneto commanded, for although he didn’t raise his voice, there was no mistaking his tone.

Erik did as he was told, but he didn’t offer Magneto an apology. He still had his pride, after all, and he knew better. Magneto wouldn’t want the empty words.

“I may give you a difficult time for behaving like a child, but it is no worse than the self-flagellation you seem determined to put yourself through on a daily basis,” Magneto said tersely. “As for Charles, don’t flatter yourself. He has never _needed_ me, or anyone else for that matter, to do anything for him.”

“Does it ever get easier?” Erik asked before he could think better of it. Magneto merely raised an eyebrow – whether he knew what Erik meant or not, he clearly wanted Erik to say the words.

“The chair. The,” and Erik had to swallow thickly to make room for the words, “the paralysis.”

“It’s a very small part of the sum of whom and what Charles is to me. We made our peace with that day a long time ago. I suggest you try to do the same, here and now, if you truly want the future you see before you.”

“You know that I do,” Erik said, feeling broken.

“Charles loves us, effortlessly and without condition. That’s the easy part. Our problem has always been our tendency to stand in our own way. I sometimes forget what it was like to be you.”

Erik snorted. “How nice for you,” he said bitterly.

“I’m serious, Erik. Watching you has been exhausting. I have spent so many years feeling… content, that all the anger and rage and darkness that I used to carry like a torch seems like a vividly remembered nightmare. You keep saying you want the happiness you see before you. You cling to Charles, only to pull away from him again. You make unilateral decisions -- don’t think I don’t know where you’ve just come from. That isn’t going to end well for you, by the way. I’m telling you that because when it was me hearing the words, I still didn’t care.”

Erik dipped his head in acknowledgement, because Magneto was right -- he didn’t really give a shit if Charles was going to be furious with him over the deal he’d made with Tony. If Charles was safe, if Charles was _alive_ , Erik could handle any fallout. He and Charles were good at that, after all.

“You want things to be different,” Magneto continued, “but you want Charles to be the one to yield. You paint a lovely picture, long talks of compromise and the Brotherhood under the same roof as the X-Men, cohabitating and working toward common goals. But do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” Erik said, affronted. At the time, he hadn’t even registered the Professor and Magneto witnessing his moment with Charles earlier, when they had embraced and made silent promises to each other to _try_. Now he was wishing they hadn’t been privy to such a private exchange, even if it was something they’d already lived.

“And what will you do, when you and Charles return to 1963 and those teenagers in Vermont still need to be saved? Will you free them as Charles would, with no casualties, or will you go in, guns blazing, leaving a trail of devastation in your wake that doesn’t really matter to you as long as the mutants are safe?”

“I…” Erik paused, honestly unsure of how to answer. He knew Charles didn’t approve of killing, even if Erik believed it to be justified, to be _necessary_. Charles would go in, alter a few minds, free the captured mutants and be on his merry way. To Erik, all that meant was prolonging a different rescue of a different set of mutants, taken against their will by the same hands.

“People will always fear change, Erik. Even mutants fear change. But you know, I realized something a long time ago, one very significant April during the sixties.” Erik didn’t miss the twinkle in Magneto’s eyes, or his meaning. “One of the things I love most about Charles is his innate goodness. I didn’t want to stamp that out with compromises of “sometimes kill” or “only maim a little”. I really, truly did want to reach a solution that would work for the both of us. It was then that I also remembered that Charles has an amazingly rare and unique gift. He is not only the most powerful telepath alive, perhaps even the most powerful mutant alive, period, but he is also a very _suggestive_ telepath. I realized that… well, should I render a few threats unconscious, Charles might _suggest_ to those subconscious minds to stop hurting mutants and start trusting them.”

“That’s a rather morally gray area for a man who only deals in blacks and whites,” Erik said dubiously.

“Charles Xavier held a man with his mind while you murdered him, feeling every moment of it, and never let go. Does it really surprise you he’d be willing to make a few concessions regarding man’s free will for the greater good?”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

Magneto chuckled. “Because that great epiphany I had that fateful April? I may have taken some very excellent advice from a very wise old man.”

Erik’s responding laugh was humorless, but his expression soon turned thoughtful. “And it’s worked for you, all these years? Disabling the enemy so that Charles might suggest to them to, what, play nice?”

“I have killed when it is necessary, and at times have done so even when it wasn’t. In a war, casualties are inevitable. You know that. Even Charles is no longer free of bearing that particular burden. Not for a long time now.” A shadow passed over Magneto’s face, recalling memories that Erik hadn’t yet lived. Erik felt a moment of deep, inexplicable sadness at the thought that one day, Charles would lose that innocent piece of himself and join Erik in the murkier recesses of the soul one inhabited after taking the life of another. He had never wanted Charles to know that darkness.

The moment passed and Magneto continued, “But in answer to your question, by and large, yes, our methods have worked, and to the benefit of many mutants over the years. It isn’t the only way Charles and I have achieved our goals, but it has worked when necessary. I still allow my anger and desire for vengeance to rule me at times. Charles still believes in humans more than they usually deserve. But I have spent my life making this world a better, safer place for mutants, and I’ve done so with the man I love more than my own life at my side. Is it the eradication of the human race to make way for mutant supremacy that I envisioned in my youth? No. But perhaps this way is better. Perhaps.”

Erik exhaled audibly, allowing the words to wash over him and sink into his skin. His gaze landed on Magneto’s wedding ring and he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Did you make the rings yourself?”

“Erik, _please_ ,” Magneto said, giving him an incredulous look. “As if I would have ever settled for anything less.”

*

Charles met Natasha Romanov when she appeared from seemingly thin air, wrapping an arm around his neck, her palm pressed up into his windpipe just enough to let him know that if he made one wrong move, she could crush it without a second thought. “Who the fuck are you?” she hissed into his ear.

“Daughter of Romanov!” Thor cried, still in mid-crouch on the ground, having been in the throes of his dramatic interpretation of the tale of Ymir the Ice Giant when Natasha had snuck up on them. “Unhand the tiny Professor!”

“Tasha, whoa, hey, Charles is a friend,” Bruce said, holding his hands up in a supplicating gesture as he moved toward them. “Also, you know, welcome back.”

Charles closed his eyes and pushed gently into her mind. He saw a series of images playing out in rapid succession: a large green monster running after her, feeling a whisper of her terror; trying to escape a room with Clint and an older, clean-cut looking man, all three bloodied and with nothing but a handful of paperclips and a ballpoint pen between them; a hospital fire; a young girl against a snowy Russian backdrop and the life of a spy laid out before her, her eyes lacking the sort of innocence a child should possess. They were the eyes of Erik as he was in his memories of those first days with Shaw. Charles knew the moment she could sense him, because she released her hold on him and jumped back as if he’d burned her.

He turned in his chair to see that she was wielding a knife, which he assumed she’d pulled from a hidden holster on her person. “Forgive me, Miss Romanov. My name is Charles. I believe you’ve met my elder counterpart. You call him the Professor?”

“You’re… wait. What?” Her eyes narrowed, and she looked to Bruce and Thor for confirmation.

Bruce nodded. “This is Charles Xavier, brought to you courtesy of time travel and the year 1963. He’s here with a young Magneto, and it’s lucky for you that he wasn’t here to see you threaten his…” Bruce colored slightly as he gestured vaguely, not sure what name to give Charles and Erik’s tense relationship. Charles empathized with him -- he wasn’t really sure either.

Thor stood to his full height, nodding gravely at Natasha. “The angry metal one would have done you harm in an attempt to protect his mate.”

At Natasha’s raised eyebrow, Charles shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “It’s… complicated.”

Thor looked puzzled. “Are you not nesting together?”

“Nesting… Thor, they aren’t birds,” Bruce laughed, scratching the back of his neck as he reached for a bag of trail mix sitting on the table. “But yeah, Natasha, I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to keep you updated on all this.”

She sheathed her knife. “Well, I have been a bit… unreachable.” She nodded her head at Charles. “I’m sorry about the, well, you know.” She put her hands around her neck and mimed choking.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. You were protecting your own, and I find that a most admirable quality.”

She grinned. “Oh, you are a charmer. That accent could be used as a weapon.”

The elevator to Thor’s floor pinged and opened, revealing Tony, Clint, Magneto and Erik. Tony spread his arms open wide in greeting. “JARVIS wasn’t lying, you really are here! I was tweaking his settings last night and this morning he told me I was looking old. Clearly I’ve scrambled something, so right now we can’t trust anything he says.”

“Clearly you’ve improved him,” Natasha said dryly as Clint made his way to her side and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Hey Tasha,” he said quietly, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. The gesture seemed filled with friendly affection to Charles, and he got the impression that not many people were allowed to be “affectionately friendly” with Natasha Romanov.

“I see you’ve met Charles,” Tony said, plucking the bag of trail mix from Bruce’s hands and flopping down on the couch. “That’s his cranky counterpart,” Tony jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating Erik.

“Hey,” Natasha said with a nod of her head in Erik’s direction. “I’m Natasha, you must be Erik. The younger Erik, I mean. I won’t try and kill you the way I tried to kill your partner.” She smiled wryly, but Erik’s face held no sense of humor.

“You _what_?” he hissed, immediately moving to Charles’ side. Charles could feel Erik’s spike of alarm at her words, and he was quick to soothe Erik’s worry. _I’m fine, darling. She threatened me a little, is all._

 _How exactly do you threaten someone a “little”, Charles?_ Erik replied mentally in exasperation. Charles didn’t respond, just sent Erik a wave of affection that seemed to placate him if the gentle wave of returned fondness was any indication.

“Fear not, angry metal man,” Thor declared, clapping Erik on the shoulder in what, to Thor’s mind, must have been manly solidarity. “Banner and I would not have let any harm befall your mate.”

“Try it again and I’ll kill you, slowly, using the iron in your very own blood cells,” Erik told her, smiling without kindness.

Natasha’s lips twitched and she dipped her chin in brief acknowledgement. “I like you, Lehnsherr.”

Tony choked on the trail mix, and Bruce chuckled quietly. “Serves you right for stealing a man’s snack food.”

“Tasha,” Clint murmured, “we need to see Fury. Have you been back to SHIELD to report?”

“Hell no,” she said with a laugh, swiping the bag of trail mix out of Tony’s hands, fast as lightning.

“Give that back!” Tony cried, grabbing for it.

“You’re like a child,” Natasha told him, dangling it just out of his reach while he was still spread out on the sofa. She turned to Clint with an amused glint in her eye. “You know I don’t report to SHEILD until I absolutely have to. Perks of being an Avenger and all that.”

Charles felt the twin spikes of amusement from Erik and Magneto as they watched Tony try -- and fail -- to get his pilfered trail mix back from Natasha. It warmed something deep down inside of him to see those small crinkles at the corners of Erik’s eyes.

“Then we should all go,” Clint said, eyeing the trail mix bag as if it were a target he could hit if only he had his bow handy. “You can give Fury your report, and then we can talk to him about Galactus.”

“Ga-who?” Natasha asked, tossing the trail mix back to Bruce, who grinned at her and popped a pretzel into his mouth.

“I hate you all,” Tony grumbled.

“Whatever have I done to earn your ire, son of Stark?” Thor asked, frowning in genuine concern.

“Nothing, Thor. I hate everyone but you. Which reminds me, when we get back, I want to introduce you to my new life model decoy,” Tony said as Clint quietly debriefed Natasha on who Galactus was and the threat they faced.

Thor’s brow furrowed in confusion and Bruce offered him a yogurt covered raisin. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. We’ll explain later.”

Thor popped the raisin into his mouth and suddenly his face broke out into a big smile. “Oh! I like it! Banner, what is this edible treasure you have bestowed upon me?”

Charles watched all of this, bemused and overwhelmed by these people, but also touched by how much they obviously cared for one another, despite their constant bickering and teasing. It reminded him of his and Erik’s brief time at the CIA facility with the children, before Angel had left and Darwin had been killed. Of the kind of rapport he hoped to one day build and cultivate at the manor with his remaining team and any new mutants who came to stay.

An image popped into his head, then, of the manor grounds swarming with mutants of all ages, happy and laughing. Charles and Erik were side by side, watching it all with twin expressions of pride. Charles was barely able to hold back his gasp as he looked over at the Professor, who gave him a knowing smile. It filled him with a cautious, unspoken joy.

*

Erik eyed the private jet warily. He’d never seen anything like it, so sleek and small yet strong and unyielding, able to carry them all safely across the city to one of the apparently numerous SHIELD facilities located throughout the area.

“Go ahead. Feel my metal,” Tony told him with a smirk.

Erik scowled, but closed his eyes and reached out with his powers to seek out the life humming throughout the metal components of the plane. It was sound and sturdy, and Erik let the feeling wash over him. When metal sang, Erik always stopped to listen to her song.

“Don’t you have approximately one million cars?” Natasha asked as they approached the jet. “Why aren’t we just taking those?”

Tony shrugged. “You know the traffic downtown sucks, and I always love giving Fury an apoplectic fit when I arrive in style.”

Erik would never admit it, but he couldn’t ignore the slight trepidation he felt at going to meet this mysterious Nicholas Fury, head of the equally mysterious government agency the Avengers kept referring to as SHIELD. He’d always hated going into situations unprepared and less than sure of the outcome, and putting Charles into the mix just added to Erik’s growing anxiety.

However, Erik was a master of cool indifference, and no one would be the wiser to his inner thoughts. Well, almost no one. As he took his seat next to Charles’ chair on the jet, Charles took his hand, squeezing gently. Erik laced their fingers and squeezed back, a silent thank you that was returned by Charles’ quiet warmth.

“Is there anything we should know about this Mr. Fury before we meet him?” Charles asked.

“He has one eye?” Bruce offered at the same time Tony said, “He’s a pain in the _ass_.”

“You have nothing to fear from Nicholas, I assure you,” the Professor told them.

Magneto chuckled from beside him. “I don’t know, Charles, loathe as I am to admit it, I might agree with Anthony.” Erik noticed that they, too, were holding hands. He hadn’t missed the way Magneto had double checked the fastenings holding down the Professor’s chair -- he himself had done the same for Charles. He recalled the Blackbird as it was crashing to the Cuban beach, when he’d used his powers to pin Charles down, to keep him as safe as possible. Erik knew, as sure as he knew his own name, that he’d always do everything in his power to keep Charles safe.

 _My hero_ , Charles teased into his mind, but underneath the playful tone, there was genuine fondness there. Erik raised an eyebrow at him, which made Charles laugh out loud. When everyone turned to look at them, Erik smirked while Charles smiled sheepishly.

“Gentlemen, telepathic flirting is not allowed on any Stark flight,” Tony told them.

“Our apologies,” Charles said. To Erik, the apology didn’t sound terribly sincere, and he could feel the smirk on his face deepening.

Erik’s hold on Charles’ hand tightened as Clint navigated the jet out of the hangar and into the air. Charles peered out of the window to gaze down at the city below. “Oh, Erik,” he gasped softly. “Look. Look how much it’s changed. And yet…”

Erik peered over Charles’ shoulder, and he could understand exactly what he meant. The skyscrapers and layout of the streets below were both immeasurably different and as familiar as the last time Erik had stepped foot in the city, a silent statement written in stone that some things remained timeless.

“I’m still not used to it myself,” Steve offered from where he was buckled on the opposite side of the jet. Steve had joined them in the hangar, giving Natasha a wave hello and chuckling softly as Bruce recounted Thor’s impromptu one-man play, interrupted as it was by Natasha’s sudden appearance and subsequent death threats. Charles hadn’t been able to hear them speaking, but there had been a lot of emphatic gesturing on Bruce’s part.

When Charles and Erik glanced over, Steve smiled, a bit chagrined. “The city,” he clarified. “And how different it is from when I lived here. But it’s also… not so different, at the same time. There are moments, when I walk through my old neighborhood in Brooklyn, that I feel like I’m still just a scrawny kid who loved to draw, who would be late for supper if he didn’t get home soon.”

“I forget that you’re a bit out of your time as well,” Charles said gently, in that way of his that was instantly comforting, welcoming, and impossibly understanding. _What do you know about me?_ Erik recalled, his voice on that chilly night echoing through his mind, Shaw’s file gripped tightly in his hand. _Everything_. And the thing was, in that moment, Erik had believed it. It was why he had stayed, Charles’ unshakable faith in him and all he believed that Erik could be. Erik still believed, deep down, that there were very few things that Charles Xavier didn’t know about him.

“Having a purpose helps. Having…friends, that helps too,” Steve said with a shrug and a laugh that was just this side of embarrassed honesty. “I kind of hated Tony the first time we met, and now I can’t imagine a day going by without him in my life. Without any of them.”

“Aww, Cap, I didn’t know you cared,” Tony cooed from the co-pilot’s seat.

“Also, pretty standard reaction to meeting you for the first time,” Clint told Tony with a laugh. He reached up, flipping a few controls before he navigated the plane toward what looked like a recently painted helipad on the top of a dilapidated red brick hospital building. Erik caught glimpses of moss and ivy climbing up the sides of the building, many of the glass windows broken or shattered from age, disuse and the elements.

“SHIELD is located in an abandoned hospital?” Erik asked. “Isn’t that a little… obtuse?”

Natasha smiled at him, enigmatic and mysterious. “Appearances can be deceiving, Lehnsherr. Don’t ever forget that.”

*

“Is this the only base of operations SHIELD has?” Charles asked over the noise of the engines.

“There’s a smaller hub of offices pretty much right off of Times Square, but Fury hates crowds,” Tony supplied as they made their way off the jet.

To Charles, everything about SHIELD seemed quite state of the art. He barely had a chance to take in the splendor of the inner building, which was sleek and sharp and inconspicuous. He was more distracted by the buzzing of dozens of minds, SHIELD’s various agents moving to and fro, employees who were barely taking notice of the newly arrived group of superheroes, talking into strange earpieces and tapping long, thin handheld screens while muttering incomprehensible nonsense. A few of the more frazzled looking members of SHIELD were running around with coffee cups and half-eaten sandwiches, checking the watches on their wrists as if the action would somehow change time itself more to their liking.

“Are you all right?” Erik murmured into his ear, leaning down and squeezing his shoulders gently. Charles nodded, giving Erik a reassuring smile. “This is a very… busy place.” He tapped his head to underscore his meaning.

The Professor laughed. “Indeed. I find that… how does that old adage go? Lie back and think of England? I find that it helps.”

“England? Dude, you live in North Salem,” Tony scoffed.

“Agent Barton, Agent Romanov,” a sharp male voice interrupted, halting the group. “To what do we owe the honor of this unscheduled visit? Although it should be noted, Agent Romanov, that your paperwork was due six hours ago.”

“Hello to you too, Sitwell,” Natasha said, completely nonplussed at being chastised by someone that Charles thought was sure to be her superior. “We’re here to see Fury. And you’ll get my paperwork when I feel like filling it out.”

“Coulson always got your paperwork on time,” Sitwell grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Natasha said, low and dangerous. Charles noticed that Clint’s hold on his bow had tightened.

Sitwell raised his hands, gesture meant to appease. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Charles caught a few flashes of memory, seeing the same man he’d seen in Natasha’s memories, fighting for his life with her and Clint. He had a kind face with gentle, unassuming features. Charles felt his loss rippling through the Avengers as if it were his own.

“You lost a friend,” he said softly. “I’m so very sorry.”

Natasha nodded tersely. “Thank you, Charles. Come on. Fury will be waiting.” Apparently there would be no introductions with Sitwell, who nodded tersely before turning on his heel and walking away down one of the many corridors Charles had seen since their arrival.

Eventually they all shuffled into a large office -- more like a grandiose room -- that reminded Charles quite a bit of the upper floors of Stark Tower. The floors were polished black marble, the windows raised from floor to ceiling, facing west and overlooking the city. Standing in front of the windows with his back to them was a tall, formidable man dressed in black, as if he could blend into the room itself at a moment’s notice.

Nicholas Fury.

“Why is it,” he spoke, not turning around, “that no matter how many times I ask, you insist on flying that damn airplane here? It’s a _twenty minute_ cab ride.”

Tony chuckled, brushing imaginary dust from Fury’s desk. “I make your droll, humdrum life brighter, Fury. Admit it.”

Fury snorted, but he turned to face them. If anything, the eye-patch he wore that didn’t quite mask his facial scarring made him look even more stern and fierce. Charles did his best to sit up straighter in his chair. Erik’s fingers gently stroked the curls at the nape of Charles’ neck in a soothing gesture. Charles could tell that Erik was wary of, but not intimidated by this man. He envied Erik that quality -- Erik wasn’t afraid of anybody. Charles rather thought that was because Erik had lived the majority of his life as a man with nothing to lose.

“Agent Barton. Agent Romanov. Avengers. And…” Fury looked slightly surprised as he registered the Professor and Magneto, although he masked it well. “Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier. It’s been a while.” It could’ve been Charles’ imagination, but he could have sworn he saw a muscle on Fury’s face twitch, and not in amusement.

The Professor smiled affably, always the paragon of politeness. “Nicholas, it’s lovely to see you again. Allow me to introduce our younger selves, Charles and Erik from the year 1963.”

“Time travel?” Fury asked, turning to Tony, incredulous. “You bring your damn plane and you bring me _time travel_?”

“What can I say? I’m a giver,” Tony told him with a self-assured smile.

“Charles and Erik aren’t actually the reason we’re here, Sir,” Steve said, stepping forward. “Thor is back in our realm, and he’s come with news.”

Thor approached Fury, relaying everything about Galactus that he’d shared upon his arrival to Stark Tower. Fury’s brow became increasingly furrowed as he listened to Thor speak, frown deepening with every word.

“A world devouring God? Because I don’t have enough to deal with. I’m assuming you’ve got this under control?” He addressed all the Avengers as he said this, and Steve nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You aren’t even going to help?” Erik asked, incredulous. “The leader of some great government organization and you won’t even lift a finger to save your city?”

Fury scowled, but Tony interrupted before he could say anything. “As if Fury could tell us what to do even if he wanted to. Which, granted, he kinda always does. Control issues, you know, it happens. In fact, you two would probably have a _lot_ in common.”

Fury sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’ve informed me of the threat. You know that any of SHIELD’s resources are at the disposal of the Avengers, within reason. Other than Agent Romanov’s outstanding paperwork, why are you still here?”

When no one said anything, Erik laughed sharply, the sound echoing in the large room. “That’s it? All that fanfare to essentially gain nothing of importance?”

“Welcome to life with Tony Stark, Mr. Lehnsherr,” Fury said, the barest hint of amusement hiding underneath his tone. “When the time comes for battle, you will have my undivided attention and any assets that I can provide. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“Actually, Nicholas, if I could make a phone call?” the Professor inquired. Fury nodded, and Magneto wheeled him over to the phone at Fury’s desk, their quiet murmurs too soft for Charles to pick up.

“Seriously, we couldn’t have done this on one of those video… call… conference things you’re so fond of?” Steve was asking Tony, who shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? I thought we all deserved a little group outing.”

“Next time?” Clint remarked, “Take us on a picnic.”

*

That evening, over a meal of Chinese take-out, Charles realized that he felt a content sort of belonging among his new friends. He had tried not to laugh at Thor, who couldn’t grasp the concept of chopsticks and kept breaking them, or at Clint, who kept flinging pieces of broccoli at Natasha as if they were tiny projectiles. The more time he spent with these people, the more he liked them.

JARVIS’ voice rang out through the post-meal chatter, and Erik tried to hide the fact that he’d jumped at the sound. Charles did his best not to laugh at that, too.

“Sir, there is a large group of people in the main lobby, claiming to be here at the behest of the Professor?”

Tony glanced at the Professor, eyes narrowed as he wiped soy sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Does this have anything to do with your mysterious phone call at SHIELD today?” The Professor inclined his head and Tony sighed. “More surprises I didn’t sign up for. Fine, send ‘em up, JARVIS.”

Charles looked questioningly at the Professor, whose expression gave nothing away. All he offered Charles was a smile and wink, which did little to ease the sudden nerves flitting around in Charles’ stomach.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him when the elevator doors opened. A small group of mutants, for that’s undoubtedly what they were, stepped out, eyes falling upon him and Erik with varying degrees of shock and wonder. There were faces that Charles didn’t know, but his eyes were immediately drawn to the ones that he did.

“Hank,” he breathed out in soft surprise.

“Raven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The SHIELD building of operation was based off of [this](http://www.opacity.us/site100_riverside_hospital_north_brother_island.htm) abandoned hospital in New York.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movies meet the comics meet my own made-up story canon in this chapter, so I take full responsibility for any bungles! Thank you wholeheartedly to everyone who has been following this story, with special thanks to my beta J -- I could not ask for a better cheerleader or friend! All remaining mistakes and inconsistencies are my own.
> 
> ETA: Sincere thanks to CarpeDiem for the help with making sure the German in this chapter is correct!

“Charles,” Hank said with a warm smile, immediately moving forward to grasp Charles’ hand. He was still blue and furry, but somehow he’d… grown into himself, into a man who exuded a calm, silent confidence while still possessing the quiet kindness that Charles had always admired in Hank.

“My friend,” Charles laughed, gripping his blue paw perhaps a little too tightly. Hank didn’t seem to mind.

“Hank?” Erik asked, surprise evident in his voice, as if he weren’t quite sure whether or not Hank was real.

“Erik,” Hank said, smile no less friendly as his eyes moved from Charles to Erik. Charles suddenly felt overwhelmed by such a small thing, for in his mind, it meant that things really were changing for the better between him and Erik, if in this time, Hank and Erik were friends once more.

Charles’ gaze moved from Hank and Erik to Raven, who was regarding the scene with a smile that was equal parts fond and exasperated. She was in her natural form, taller than Charles remembered her, sleeker and more polished, but still undoubtedly _Raven._ As she moved toward them, she morphed into the blonde that Charles had grown up with all those years ago, although even that part of her had changed, matured to reflect the years she’d lived.

“Raven,” Charles said, aware that he was dangerously close to losing his precarious hold over his emotions.

She knelt down in front of his chair and rested a blue hand on his face, her smile warmer and more genuine. “No matter how many times I ask you to call me Mystique…” Her words held no real bite, mostly just amused resignation. Charles knew he was in danger of crying for real now.

“My dear,” he whispered. “My dear Raven.”

She pressed her forehead to his, just a gentle touch, but it was enough. Charles soaked up the moment like a plant turning to face the sunlight.

“You were right,” Hank said, turning to the Professor. “This is fascinating. I wish we could’ve come sooner, been here when they arrived. There’s probably no time for any tests now…” Hank looked regretful. Erik looked alarmed.

A throat cleared from the back of the group of mutants, whom Charles had momentarily forgotten in the emotion of the moment. “As touching as this twisted family reunion is, when do we get to the part where I kill things?”

*

Erik couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, even as it was happening before his eyes. Hank and Mystique were standing right in front of him, alive and well fifty years into the future. While Hank was beginning to show signs of aging, Mystique still looked as young and vibrant as ever. Erik hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed her until now.

She gave him a knowing smile as she stood from her crouch in front of Charles’ chair. She leaned in to whisper something into Charles’ ear that had Charles throwing his head back in quiet, happy laughter. Erik felt the familiar guilty twisting of his insides -- of all the things he’d taken from Charles, he sometimes forgot that he’d taken Mystique, too.

“As touching as this twisted family reunion is, when do we get to the part where I kill things?”

It took Erik a split second longer than Charles to place the voice of the burly, mysterious stranger.

“Oh my God, Erik, it’s the man from the bar.”

Erik looked over and sure enough, cigar hanging loosely in his mouth, was the asshole who’d dismissed them so easily in Canada. He and Charles, after they’d snapped out of their slight shock at being so abruptly rebuked, had laughed in the car all the way back to the hotel, stealing kisses in deserted hallways and behind closed doors as their amusement slowly morphed into something passionate but equally as warm. Erik blinked, shaking his head as if the action could physically remove the memories of Charles beneath him, warm and pliant and urging Erik deeper inside, eyes filled with trust and wonder and something so big, Erik hadn’t been sure he’d ever be able to face it and give it proper name.

“It’s Logan, yes?” Charles asked, eyeing the man warily. Erik could imagine that Charles was mentally preparing to be told off again.

“You got it, bub. Chuck here tells me we’ve met before, but I don’t really remember. I’d apologize, but I’m not real sorry about it.”

Tony, still finishing the last of his garlic noodles, laughed openly toward the Professor and Magneto. “Oh shit, I totally get why Fury twitches every time he sees you two. Didn’t you send this guy to SHIELD to be your “mutant liaison” or whatever?”

The Professor gave a long-suffering sigh. “I was otherwise engaged, and Erik was in a… playful mood.”

Magneto shrugged, not at all apologetic. “Wolverine was more than willing to play along. I hear his many charming assets, claws included, left quite an impression.”

Wolverine grinned, biting down on his cigar. “You bet your ass they did.”

“Claws?” Charles asked weakly. In a flash, with a barely audible whoosh, long pieces of metal emerged from Wolverine’s clenched fists. To Erik they looked more like swords than claws, but… he could see where the description was apt.

“That’s…” Charles scrambled to find the right words. The Professor took pity on him. “Not a natural mutation. Logan has remarkable regenerative abilities. The adamantium that his skeleton is laced with was the result of something a bit more… human in nature.”

“They experimented on you,” Erik said, feeling the familiar tightness in his voice as he held his anger at bay. More humans, experimenting on mutants as if it were their right. Typical.

“I’m a bit of a failed experiment. I don’t play nice,” Wolverine said with a smirk.

“Something you have in common with Anthony, no doubt,” Magneto said, at the same time Erik puzzled out what exactly adamantium was.

“You have a skeleton made of metal? I suppose it’s a good thing we’re friends.”

Wolverine laughed, retracting his strange metal claws. “Oh, we haven’t always been, Lehnsherr. And trust me, I’ve always been more than a match for you.”

“As amusing as this pissing contest is,” came another unknown voice, this from a female mutant stepping forward, “that’s not why we’re here. Charles, Erik,” she said, turning to them. “My name is Ororo, but you can call me Storm.” She had a beautiful complexion framed by a shock of white hair, despite her young age, accentuated by the most brilliant crystalline eyes. Beside her, a young man with dark hair, strong features and a strange red mechanism covering his eyes stepped forward. “And I’m Scott Summers. You can call me Cyclops, if you’d like.”

“Summers,” Charles said. “Any relation to -- ”

“We’re brothers,” Cyclops replied with a grin that Erik was all too familiar with.

“Oh _mein Gott_ , just what this world needs, another Summers,” he murmured, earning various chuckles from the mutants amassed in Tony Stark’s dining room.

“And you all know each other?” Charles asked, looking around at the room full of people as if he weren’t quite sure what to do next, what to expect from this strange and extraordinary group of people. Erik understood the feeling.

The Professor nodded. “As I mentioned before, when the Avengers became a public body, Erik and I felt it… prudent to introduce ourselves and make ourselves known as allies.”

“And you’re from…” Charles turned to the mutants, hesitant, as though he were afraid to voice the hope that Erik knew he was harboring.

Storm smiled, stepping forward to kneel before Charles, just as Mystique had. “Yes, Charles. We’re your former students. We help you and Magneto run the school now. We are, have been, and will always be loyal X-Men.”

Erik watched as Charles blinked rapidly, eyes closing as Storm embraced him briefly. Erik wasn’t without feeling, seeing these mutants that he would help shape and guide to adulthood, mutants who would one day become his equals and possibly his friends. But he knew what the school meant to Charles, what seeing the fruition of his life’s dream must mean to him.

 _Oh Erik,_ Charles murmured softly into his mind. _I have many dreams for the future, my friend, but none so great as my dream of you._

*

“You look overwhelmed,” Mystique murmured as she smoothly stepped to Erik’s side, watching him as he watched the rest of the room. Charles was sitting with Hank, Storm, and the younger Summers brother, laughing delightedly at whatever tales they were telling him, hands clasped in obvious glee.

“I am,” Erik confessed, turning to her. She’d reverted back into her natural form and Erik was glad for it. “I’m assuming there are more that aren’t here?”

She nodded. “Oh yes. You and Charles have built quite a legacy. But if you’re asking specifics, Havoc comes and goes, same with Banshee -- he’s got a kid now.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Little Sean Cassidy?”

Mystique laughed. “He’s not the only one.” There was something in both her tone and her expression that Erik debated chasing after, but he decided to leave it alone for now.

“Are you happy?” he asked her instead, and she looked surprised by the question. “Because it seems like I’m… happier than perhaps I’ve ever been, and it’s important to me that you are too. Other than Charles, you’re my… well.”

She regarded him with those perceptive yellow eyes before she laughed softly, shaking her head.  
“Yes. I am. I’ve had a good life. You and I… we’ve done great things together. We’ve done great things with Charles. _You_ have done extraordinary things with Charles. And if I’m being honest… this whole thing, you guys coming to the future like this… it gave me my brother back. My home back. My life, really. And God, we’ve had fun tormenting Charles over the years.”

Her grin was all mischief, and Erik found himself laughing openly. She gave his shoulder a brief, gentle squeeze. “We’ve been lucky, Erik,” she said, and he didn’t miss the use of his given name. “Embrace it. Don’t run from it.”

Magneto’s words from earlier came back to him: _Our problem has always been our tendency to stand in our own way._ Erik’s gaze traveled back to Charles, whose face was flush with laughter and happiness instead of the usual haunted gaze Erik had come to associate with the Charles he’d left behind all those months ago. When he turned back to Mystique, she’d already slipped away, joining Clint and Natasha in what looked like an impromptu game of darts. With knives.

*

Charles knew without a timepiece on him that the hour was late by the time he and Erik got back to their floor. Magneto and the Professor had retired much earlier in the evening, so they tried to be as quiet as possible as they navigated the hall to Charles’ room.

His mind was dancing with remembered images of the evening: Scott and Thor trying to drink each other under the table, Logan and Tony engaging in what seemed like an unending arm wrestling match that Tony could never win, while Clint, Raven, and Natasha played a modified version of darts with throwing knives, their target a painting on the wall that Natasha had declared “too hideous to live.” Steve had shared stories of his time with the Howling Commandos to Erik and an enraptured Ororo, who admitted to being a bit of a history buff. Erik, Charles could tell, was fascinated to hear about that dark time in his life from a hero’s perspective. Hank and Bruce had been experimenting with whatever they could find in the large, spacious kitchen, occasional exploding noises seeming to make them all the more eager to continue. Charles had taken it all in with a quiet awe that he still hadn’t quite shaken. He knew that tomorrow they would have to begin preparing for the battle, developing plans and strategies and facing the hard truth that this was no ordinary foe they faced. However, in that moment, Charles was content to allow himself to be bolstered and buoyed by the evening and the simple camaraderie they had all shared.

“You’re happy,” Erik commented softly as he settled Charles’ chair near the bedroom’s large oak dresser and helped him out of his cardigan. It wasn’t a question.

“I guess I am. I… Erik. This is our life. _Our life_.” He laughed, giddy and nervous, on the brink of something that he knew was going to change his life forever.

“Charles,” Erik said softly, nothing more than a whisper as he leaned in to capture Charles’ lips in one of the sweetest kisses Charles had ever known.

Charles deepened the kiss, hands tangling in Erik’s hair as he pressed their lips firmly together, and just like that, a kiss was suddenly not enough. He broke away, resting his forehead against Erik’s. “Stand up,” he murmured quietly.

“Charles?” Erik asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Stand up,” Charles repeated again, more firmly. Erik did as Charles asked, and when Charles’ hands flew to Erik’s pants, making quick work of his belt, Erik understood.

“Charles, wait…”

“Shh. No, darling. Let me. Please.” Charles wanted this. He needed this. He needed to prove, to Erik and to _himself_ , that he could still do this. He could still be an adequate lover. He could still be a man that Erik deserved.

As if reading his mind, and perhaps he was projecting, Erik said, “Charles, I don’t need… it doesn’t _matter_ …”

Charles tugged Erik’s pants and briefs down, exposing his cock, and Charles made a noise somewhere between desire and happiness at the sight, at finally having this, having _Erik_ within his reach. He learned forward to grasp Erik in his hand, sliding his palm up and down Erik’s length.

“Charles,” Erik gasped, hand reaching out to brace himself against the dresser. Charles tightened his hold on Erik’s cock, which was rapidly hardening underneath his fingers. He continued to stroke, long and languid, eyes sharp as he watched Erik’s features, Erik’s reactions. He could still do this. He could.

Erik closed his eyes, breathing more labored than it had been a moment ago. Charles gave him a few more steady, deft strokes before taking a deep breath. It was now or never. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his free hand on Erik’s hip and pulling him closer. When Charles slid his hand all the way down Erik’s cock to make room for his lips, Erik cursed out loud, German words that Charles didn’t know the meaning of but could take a few educated guesses at.

It was as if no time had passed as Charles took the tip of Erik’s cock into his mouth, sucking experimentally. He gripped the base of Erik’s shaft, stroking as he took Erik deeper into his mouth, tongue lapping at skin that tasted of salt and musk and _Erik_. Returning to this part of their relationship was familiar and comfortable, not at all awkward like Charles had feared. Charles knew he’d missed Erik in the months of his absence, but he hadn’t realized just how much until that moment, Erik’s cock in his mouth, Erik gasping and panting out _Charles_ and _yes_ and _more_ , the words like a balm to his soul.

It was quick, it was messy, the angle was awkward, but Charles hadn’t felt so turned on, so _alive_ since the loss of his legs. He had worried, in the depths of sleepless nights, that he’d never have anything like this again, that sex would be a thing of his past, that he’d be little more than useless as a lover with a body he wasn’t even sure would function in the ways he wanted it to with a lover.

Erik’s fingers tangled in his hair, guiding Charles’ movements. He hissed as Charles took him even deeper while giving his cock a particularly firm squeeze. “Not going to last, Charles… I’m going to… Charles… oh _Gott, hör nicht auf_.”

Relaxing the back of his throat, Charles took in as much of Erik’s length as he could, sucking him deep, stroking him upward into his mouth. With a shout of both pleasure and surprise, Erik came down his throat, hot and salty and _perfect_.

Charles pulled back, Erik’s softening cock slipping past his lips, slick from Charles’ mouth and his own come. The only sound in the room was their heavy panting mixed together as they both tried to regain composure.

Erik half knelt, half collapsed next to Charles’ chair on the floor. “Charles… that was… where did that come from?”

Charles laughed, breathless. “Well, Erik, when a man and another man like each other very much…”

Erik leaned against Charles’ chair, chuckling low and amused. “It was… incredible.”

Charles’ fingers found their way to Erik’s hair once more, stroking softly through the strands. “Yeah?”

Erik turned to look up at him, brow furrowed. “Of course. We’ve always been… it’s never been better than it is with you. Did you think that would change because we’ve been apart?”

“Not because we’ve been apart, no,” Charles told him, fingers falling from Erik’s hair to brush against his cheek.

“Then what…” Charles could see in Erik’s eyes and on his face, the moment he realized the source of Charles’ worry. “Oh, Charles.”

“Help me into bed, would you?” Charles asked, desperate to change the subject and avoid this conversation. He’d proven that he was still able to bring Erik pleasure, and that doing so had brought him his own sense of pleasure in return. Did they have to focus on the rest?

“Charles,” Erik said again, but he stood, lifting Charles into his arms, moving him the short distance to the bed. Erik had already kicked his pants off, and he shucked his shirt as well, helping Charles out of his day clothes before climbing with him under the sheets. He nestled against Charles, making sure that Charles was comfortable against the pillows. Charles was flooded with warmth at the gesture, and couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the crown of Erik’s head.

“Charles,” Erik tried once more, pulling back to look at him, really look, gaze not breaking contact or focus. “I’m not a fool. I understand that your situation will present some unique challenges to sex that weren’t there before. But if you think for a moment that it makes you any less desirable to me, that I _want_ you any less… well, you’re insane.”

Charles choked out a laugh as Erik brushed the moisture from Charles’ eyes, so reminiscent of their earlier moment in the living room when Charles had bared everything without realizing Erik had been listening. “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ , you ridiculous man.” Erik laughed, pulling at Charles until Charles’ head was pillowed on his chest.

Charles grinned, tracing idle patterns on Erik’s skin. “You keep calling me that.”

“Well, if you keep being ridiculous, you’re going to keep giving me reasons to call you such.”

“So logical,” Charles murmured, feeling pleasantly sleepy and sated, even though he himself hadn’t reached orgasm.

“Do you want me to…” Erik gestured with his hand, indicating Charles’ crotch beneath the blankets.

“No,” Charles said, completely sure. “This was enough. This was more than enough. Just to know that I… that we… it was perfect. Thank you.”

“Ok,” Erik said, kissing playfully behind Charles’ ear, nipping at his earlobe.

Charles moaned softly in approval. “So does this mean we’re… you know… together? Again?”

“Were we ever really not?” Erik teased, lips moving from Charles’ ear to his neck.

“Erik, I’m serious,” Charles laughed, swatting at him playfully.

Erik looked at Charles then, emotion deepening the hue of his eyes. “Yes, _Liebling_. You’re mine and I’m yours and we’re…”

“Everything?” Charles supplied, heart soaring.

“Yes,” Erik said with a content smile, expression soft with fondness and affection. “Everything.”

*

Erik had always enjoyed waking up next to Charles’ warm, soft body, and doing so in the future didn’t lessen the experience any. If anything, it made the experience sweeter after having found their way back to one another.

Charles was already awake, watching him with soft, sleepy blue eyes more brilliant that a cloudless summer sky. Erik felt his smile stretching across his entire face as he leaned down for a good morning kiss.

“Morning breath,” Charles murmured, but he yielded easily enough, arms wrapping around Erik’s neck to pull him down closer. Erik carefully settled himself atop Charles, and they kissed for long, slow, lazy minutes, breaking contact only briefly enough to whisper quiet, nonsensical things against each other’s skin. “ _Ich liebe dich_ ,” Erik murmured into Charles’ hair. “ _Verlass mich niemals_.”

“Darling,” Charles said, smiling at him with those perfect red lips. Erik couldn’t help stealing another kiss. Charles pushed at him gently, laughing as Erik buried his face in the crook of Charles’ neck and began nipping at his collarbone.

“Darling,” Charles tried again. “We really should get up and head downstairs. I believe we’ve already overslept as it is.”

“Mmm,” Erik hummed in non-committal agreement, making no effort to move his lips from Charles’ skin. He could hear Charles sigh above him before reaching down to smack him on his bare ass.

“Charles!” Erik responded, putting on scandalized airs. “It’s a little early to be so kinky, don’t you think?”

“I’m fairly certain that any time at all is a kinky time for you, Erik Lehnsherr. But we really must get moving. We can’t ignore the fact that Galacuts will be here in a few short days.”

Erik sighed, but he rolled off of Charles, sitting up and rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. As he sat up he brought his knees to his chest, resting his head on them as he turned to study Charles with a smile.

Charles returned the smile, bringing himself up on his elbows. “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you look first thing in the morning.”

“Charles,” Erik admonished, trying to hide his flush and the way that Charles’ words did things to his insides.

“It’s true. Forgive me for being a bit saccharine, darling, but I think after all these months I’m allowed. Most nights I went to sleep believing that we’d never have this again.”

Erik reached out to rest his hand on Charles’ forearm, squeezing gently. “Me too.”

They spent a quiet moment just staring at each other, and Erik marveled at how content he felt, how _right_. The spell was broken by JARVIS’ voice, ringing loud and tinny throughout their room.

“Gentlemen, Mr. Stark has requested that I remind you both that there is a meeting about to take place downstairs in the main dining area. I am told that breakfast will be served. _Auf wiedersehen_.”

Erik groaned loudly, covering his face with a pillow while the sound of JARVIS’ voice was replaced with Charles’ light, happy laughter.

*

“Galactus will not be working alone. He’s aided by a Herald, an otherworldly creature that travels through galaxies looking for bodies of mass that Galactus can devour. He also employs the use of cyborgs to, as you say, do his dirty work,” the Professor explained.

“You mean take care of potential threats to his plans. Like us,” Steve said. The Professor nodded.

Storm looked contemplative as she asked, “Where does Galactus even come from, to be able to travel the Universe, snacking on it as he goes and wielding a cyborg army while he does it?”

“From what I was told by Heimdall and the other possessors of great and ancient knowledge on Asgard, Galactus was once called Galan, and he lived in the time before ours. He is the sole survivor of that time, and he feeds on bodies of mass throughout the universe to survive,” Thor explained.

“So he eats planets and uses robots to do his evil bidding. Wonderful!” Tony commented.

“See, I can’t tell if you’re being facetious or serious right now,” Bruce told him.

“Maybe a little of both,” Tony replied. “If we’re dealing with cyborgs, there’s a chance that JARVIS can hack into their central system and shut them down. That would be once less thing we have to worry about.” He peered over at the Professor and Magneto. “Can JARVIS hack the mean green mothers from outer space?”

The Professor spread his hands, shrugging apologetically. “I do not actually know. Neither of us, myself nor Erik, faced off against the cyborgs during the battle, and it never came up whether or not JARVIS was successful. Certainly I believe it’s worth a shot.”

“What do you remember from the battle? Or… what can you tell us without, you know, altering the very fabric of time?” Bruce asked.

“I remember very little,” the Professor told them with an embarrassed smile.

“I fought the Herald with my older self, Anthony, Hank and Wolverine; the rest of you provided backup amidst the battle with the cyborgs. He was a… particularly difficult foe. His armor was made of no metals of this Earth, nothing I’d ever encountered before or since. I didn’t focus on much else, and Charles and I weren’t here for much longer after we’d won. I’m sorry, I know that’s of little use to any of you right now,” Magneto offered.

Charles’ brow furrowed. The Professor and Magneto were hiding something. When he tried to gently pry into their minds, he was abruptly halted by a solid mental barrier blocking his way to the truth. He realized that the Professor was shielding both his own mind and Magneto’s, and was stunned by the knowledge that he would one day be powerful enough to do such a thing. He was distracted by the thought, and the Professor and Magneto’s apparent deception by omission was momentarily forgotten.

“So we need to prepare for cyborgs and a Herald. If we stop the Herald, Galactus doesn’t get invited to the all you can eat buffet called planet Earth?” Tony asked, fingers flying at what should have been impossible speeds for a human hand as he made notes on the device Charles had come to understand was called a tablet.

The Professor nodded. “That’s right. Without a Herald to guide him, share his powers and tether him to this world, Galactus will retreat until he is able to create another. As we understand it, he only ever operates with one Herald at any given time. They are likened to being a physical manifestation of his five senses.”

“Well, except for taste, obviously, which he seems pretty damn keen to enjoy all by his lonesome,” Wolverine remarked, etching a random pattern into the dining table with one of his metal claws.

“This is imported Blackwood!” Tony told him, outraged.

“This is me not giving a shit,” Wolverine replied with a smirk.

“Yes, I can see how we’re going to get a lot of world saving done together,” Scott remarked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Logan,” the Professor admonished, and the look Logan shot him was definitely sour, but he left the table alone. Charles was more than a little amazed that the Professor had the power to rein a man like Logan in with a single word.

“All right,” Steve said, standing up to face the group, his quiet authority going a long way to command the respect that Charles felt was definitely both earned and deserved. “Tony, Bruce, Hank? You’re on cyborg duty. Do your best to figure out any and every possible way to hack into their systems. Thor, Storm? I want to know as much about Galactus as we can. You have the unlimited resources of SHIELD at your disposal; use them. Barton, figure out your best vantage points within the city and make sure you have access to them. As for the rest of you, keep your skills sharp. Practice with each other, train with each other, I don’t really care how you do it, but be ready.”

“And what will you be doing, Captain Marvelous?” Tony asked with a grin.

Steve grinned back. “Giving you orders, of course. What else?”

*

Charles watched from his bed as Erik focused on controlling and warping various pieces of scrap metal that Tony had provided. He was currently levitating what looked like an old robot arm. Charles could feel the quiet focus and determination radiating from Erik; his eyes were closed, and there was a moment of stillness in the air before the metal arm snapped clean in half.

Erik glanced over his shoulder, favoring Charles with a grin. Charles made a playful show of applause. “Brilliant work, darling. The Herald won’t know what hit him.”

Erik frowned, turning to pick up the broken pieces of the arm. “I don’t know, Charles. All my knowledge… everything I am, all that I can do… it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough.”

“You should work on your levitation,” said Raven, leaning against the open doorway of Charles’ room, smiling as both Charles and Erik jumped in surprise at her sudden appearance.

At Erik’s look of confusion, she laughed, moving to the bed to settle in next to Charles. “Magneto can levitate, which means so can you. Not just objects and other people, but your own person as well. You’ve done it before. It’ll be helpful if you can be airborne during the battle. Wear lots of metal, I don’t think you have quite the handle on the Earth’s magnetism that Magneto has.”

“I’m working on it,” Erik grunted, turning back to his pile of scrap metals, his shoulders set in focused determination.

Charles gave Raven a fond smile. In turn, she leaned in closer to him, pressing their bodies together side by side, allowing Charles to wrap a cautious arm around her shoulders.

“We do this all the time at the manor. No interruptions, just you and me in a safe space where we can be completely uncensored with each other. Nothing is off the table, and our only rule is total, complete honesty. We were sitting just like this the first time you told me, with absolute certainty, that you were going to turn our childhood home into a place for children just like us. When you confessed to me that there were moments when you didn’t know if you had it in you to live without your legs. When I told you that I was pregnant.”

Charles started, feeling a spike of surprise rushing through him as he looked at her with wide eyes. Even Erik froze, and Charles could feel something falling into place in Erik’s mind, a vague recollection of something Charles’ hadn’t been present for.

“My dear,” he said with no small amount of awe. “You have a child? You’re a mother?”

Raven smiled, and there was nothing but genuine pride in it. “I am. His name is Kurt. He has my blue skin and his father’s ability to teleport at will.”

Erik, Charles could tell, couldn’t hold back his bark of laughter. At Raven’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged. “Where I’m from, the two of you have spent the last six months making eyes at each other.”

“Where you’re from, I’m still half in love with Hank McCoy. But… yes. I’ll concede your point.” She paused. “Ass.”

Erik gave her his best untamed grin, abandoning his pile of metal to join Charles and Raven. He sat on the edge of the bed at Charles’ feet, placing a gentle hand on Charles’ leg.

“The father is Azazel? Is he…” Charles’ brow furrowed, mind scrambling to find the best way to ask the question delicately.

“Is he still around? Safe space, Charles, remember? You can ask me anything. And yes, Azazel still pops in from time to time. He’s in Kurt’s life enough that they’re both satisfied. He works mostly with Erik and I on missions where we need quick access to hard to reach places. He doesn’t come to the manor. He had a bad run-in with Emma Frost a while back that’s left him a bit wary of telepaths. Don’t worry, you’ve never been too offended by it.”

“I’m an uncle,” Charles said, aware that the smile creeping up on his face was more than a bit goofy.

Raven’s eyes seemed to glow a brighter yellow. “You are. And Kurt? He pretty much worships you. He always has, from the time he was little and you would race your chair down the halls of the manor with him in your lap to now, when he claims that your school is his one true sanctuary. Most of us call him Nightcrawler. Most of us.” She gave Charles a pointed look as if to demonstrate exactly how long-suffering she found herself and other mutants when it came to Charles’ stubborn insistence on using given names.

Charles couldn’t find it in himself to be anything but overwhelmed with content happiness, though. Raven tapped her fingers to her head, inviting Charles to take a look for himself. He saw a vibrant, beautiful child grow into a confident, charming man with a conviction and faith in the things he believed in that left Charles breathless. He felt immeasurably proud, his own feelings blending seamlessly with Raven’s as their connection faded. Before he was completely out of her mind, Charles saw something else, too.

“You’re leaving.”

She nodded, giving his arm a squeeze. “I am. I won’t leave you wanting for help, but this isn’t my fight. I came here to see the two of you. I had to see for myself.”

“See what?” Erik asked, shifting on the bed to put Charles’ feet into his lap. Charles felt indescribable warmth and gratitude at the way Erik handled his frail, twisted legs.

“The beginning of the rest of my life,” she told them, lips twitching as she leaned into kiss Charles’ cheek, giving his hand a squeeze before she stood up.

“It was lovely to see you, my dear,” Charles told her, feeling a bit at a loss as his sadness at her sudden, imminent departure took hold. He didn’t begrudge her her right to leave, or even her reasons for doing so.

“Would you like me to walk you out?” Erik offered.

“No, Magneto will see me off. Have fun with your scrap heap over there. And remember: levitate.”

And with that, she was gone.

Charles shook his head, laughing in dismay. “A son. I can hardly believe it. We’re getting old, Erik.”

Erik chuckled, removing Charles’ shoes as he began to gently massage his feet. At Charles’ raised eyebrow, Erik said, “What? Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean it’s not still important to keep up your circulation.”

“Oh, Erik,” Charles said fondly, and he knew that his affection was written plainly on his face, for Erik returned it in equal measure.

Charles closed his eyes as Erik continued to work quietly, fingers kneading up his calves. If he focused his mind, he could almost feel the ghost sensation of Erik’s fingertips as they trailed up his skin.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mein Gott = my God  
> oh Gott, hör nicht auf = oh God, don’t stop  
> Ich liebe dich = I love you  
> Verlass mich niemals = never leave me  
> Auf wiedersehen = goodbye


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine that I took more than a few liberties with cyborgs and Heralds and superhero battles and Galactus here, so please forgive any inaccuracies to comics canon! To my beta J, you have been invaluable to me and I couldn't have asked for a better sounding board! All remaining mistakes or inconsistencies are my own.

Charles felt a strange sense of déjà vu as he watched Erik and the others preparing for the battle. His mind kept flashing back to that all too brief time in Westchester when he and Erik had helped the others learn to harness and strengthen their abilities. It seemed a lifetime ago that he was entrusting Alex not to blow him to pieces with plasma blasts and being outrun by Hank on the manor grounds. He felt a pang at the remembered nights with Erik, their lovemaking increasing in fervor and feeling until it had reached a crescendo of emotion and desire and _want_.  The pang was gentler now, knowing that he and Erik were dedicated to trying again. But Charles suspected he would always feel a sense of loss at the easy way he and Erik had felt so infinite and untouchable, before they’d ever consciously realized they had the power to hurt each other so deeply.

It also put into sharp relief the ways in which Charles wasn’t going to be of much use to anyone. He felt frustrated -- more frustrated than perhaps he’d felt since he’d lost his legs -- to have such a powerful mind without the physical means to match it. He watched as Erik and Magneto worked on a levitation technique using the metals in Erik’s clothing. Logan was sparring with Thor and Natasha, while Tony and Bruce fixated on trying to find a way to harness Scott’s plasma blasts for their own use under the amused, watchful eye of Hank. Not for the first time since she’d departed, Charles missed Raven. Like him, she had never been much of a physical fighter, relying instead on her cleverness and her intellect to outsmart her enemy before she ever had to overpower them. The Professor had encouraged him to work on centering himself and expanding his mind, and Charles had done so in the quiet moments he had, usually at night in Erik’s arms, the sound of Erik’s low, even breathing something of a meditative lull. However, Charles couldn’t find it in himself to seek solace in the Professor, who would undoubtedly be the only person who could understand exactly what he was feeling. Every time Charles looked at the Professor, he could see it in the older man’s eyes: _I’m sorry, my friend, but this is a battle you will not much be part of._

Deep down, Charles could admit that his bitter disappointment was in no small part because of the way he felt he’d failed so spectacularly that day in Cuba. Wouldn’t things have turned out so very differently if he’d only made the right choices? Said the right things? If he could do more against Galactus, would it… make up for his shortcomings six months ago? Or did this just mean that he’d always be unable to provide any real assistance to those he loved when it really mattered?

Charles knew his thoughts were making him maudlin, so he did his best to keep them locked away from the others, especially Erik, who paid him no small amount of attention, even while he was otherwise engaged. He would smile at Charles from mid-air as if he wanted nothing more than for Charles to share in the victory of his moment, and Charles was unmanned. He thought back to that day at the manor, gray skies and satellites and Charles believing with everything he was in all that Erik could one day be. He still believed in those things. All he had to do was look at Erik to know that all of those things were true.

“Metal man of slightly less ire!” Thor’s voice boomed as he moved toward Erik, pulling Charles from his thoughts. “Let us test the strength of your power!” He twirled the hammer in his hand as if it were light and weightless; a simple toy used for amusement and parlor tricks, not the formidable weapon Charles knew it to be.

Erik laughed openly. “You honestly believe that a hammer is any match for me?”

Tony’s head popped up from where he’d been tinkering with a bit of gadgetry at his workbench. “Oh, this is going to be _so_ good.”

“Come on then, thunder God,” Erik said, arms spread wide. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Thor chuckled, low and amused, and with an audible crack in the air, launched Mjolnir at Erik. It all happened in the blink of an eye, but to Charles everything seemed to move in slow motion. Erik reached out his hand to stop the hammer with his powers, but nothing was happening. Mjolnir was headed straight for Erik without slowing, and it was only when the hammer was a hair’s breadth away from Erik’s face did it halt entirely before clattering to the ground, as if it had hit an invisible barrier.

Everyone glanced over to see Magneto, hand extended, slowly lowering it back down to his side as he dissipated the magnetic force field he’d surrounded Erik with. Thor looked momentarily stunned, but then he threw back his head and laughed heartily, calling Mjolnir back to his outstretched hand.

“Splendid, God of Metal! Not many can claim victory over the power of Mjolnir.”

“I am no God, I assure you,” Magneto told him, but Charles could hear the note of amused pride in his voice.

“Don’t give him any ideas, Thor,” Storm teased. “His head’s big enough as it is. It’s a wonder they all fit into the same bed: him, the Professor, and Magneto’s ego.”

Erik scowled and Charles felt his face heating up in a slight flush, but the Professor and Magneto looked completely nonchalant.

“Magneto, I’m… impressed.” Bruce said, balancing on the balls of his feet. “The only thing that’s ever stood up to the hammer before is Cap’s shield.”

“The Earth itself is mired in magnetism,” Magneto said with a barely perceptible shrug. “I have spent many years upon her surface, learning her secrets.”

“You ok there, Shark Week?” Tony asked, peering at Erik, who was looking rather stunned.

“I… yes,” Erik said, blinking. Charles couldn’t help but smile fondly. It wasn’t every day that someone bested Erik Lehnsherr.

*

At dinner the night before the battle, a mutant showed up at Stark Tower. She was young, tall and svelte with hair the color of a smoldering fire, and Erik could feel the ripples of her power as sure as he could sense the magnetic pull of the Earth.

She introduced herself as Jean Grey.

“Mystique sent me,” she explained, moving to give Magneto a one-armed squeeze before kneeling down to embrace the Professor. Erik didn’t miss the fondness that Magneto and the Professor regarded her with.

“My dear,” the Professor said warmly. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Jean pulled back far enough to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Not so much a surprise to someone who knew I was coming?”

“You’re always chiding me over my supposedly faulty memory. Perhaps I’d forgotten you’d be here,” the Professor replied mirthfully.

She laughed warmly and hugged him again. Erik watched Magneto watching them, nothing but unguarded warmth and affection in his eyes. Whoever this Jean Grey was, she was obviously someone very important to his and Charles’ older selves.

No one seemed particularly surprised to have another mutant added to the mix, and Scott and Logan made room for Jean between them at the table, each giving her a kiss on the cheek. Logan’s accompanying ass grab earned him a stab in the hand by one of his dinner forks, courtesy of Magneto, and a sharp elbow to the ribs from Jean.

“Behave, Logan,” she admonished.

“Jean,” Storm interrupted before Logan could somehow retaliate. “You said Mystique sent you? She made it back to the manor, then?”

Jean nodded, smiling in thanks at Clint, who passed her a container of pad thai and an open bottle of wine.

“Raven said she wouldn’t leave us wanting for help,” Charles murmured, studying Jean thoughtfully. When Charles started suddenly, Erik felt his own spike of alarm, quickly abated by Charles’ immediate surprised, breathy laugh.

“You’re a telepath,” Charles said to Jean, who Erik realized must’ve spoken into Charles’ mind and startled him.

“Among other things,” Scott said, and Erik recognized the pride in his voice -- it was the same sort pride he felt for Charles, always.

“I’ve only ever met one other,” Charles told her. “She’s decidedly more…”

“Frosty?” Logan offered with a smirk. Erik groaned.

Jean laughed, index finger idly tracing the rim of her wine glass. “Any skill I’ve managed to master as a telepath, I owe it to you,” she told Charles. There was no mistaking the regard in her voice. The Professor favored her with a smile that struck Erik as something proud and paternal.

“Your telekinetic abilities will come in handy,” Tony told her with a wave of his fork. “Cyborgs are so much easier to blow up when they can’t move.”

“I’m pretty damn awesome, Stark, but even I can’t control an entire army,” Jean said with a wry smile.

“No, but even a few less of those little bastards would count as a victory in my book,” Tony replied, returning her grin with one of his own.

“We can use all the help we can get. Welcome aboard, ma’am,” Steve said, giving her a formal nod.

Jean opened her mouth to reply, but Natasha shook her head. “Don’t. He’ll never stop with the grand ol’ chivalry bit. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Better a gentleman than this guy,” Jean said, quirking her thumb at Logan. Logan smirked and tapped out the ashes from his cigar into her food.

It was surreal to Erik, watching the easy and effortless way in which all of these people interacted with each other, Magneto included. Erik had never considered himself much of a people person -- it wouldn’t be too far off the mark to say that Charles was the first real friend he’d ever had. And it seemed that by knowing Charles, by loving Charles, far and away the easiest thing Erik had ever done, he had amassed himself an entire group of friends; a family. The thought was a humbling one, and it warmed Erik’s insides.

As if hearing his thoughts like they were spoken words, Charles responded with a gentle brush against Erik’s consciousness: _I love you, darling. Always._

*

Sleep was an elusive creature that night, coming in fits and starts for Charles, and he knew even before he was fully out of his latest doze that Erik’s eyes were on him.

“Hello,” he murmured, meeting Erik halfway for a chaste, sleepy kiss. “What time is it?”

“It’s not quite dawn,” Erik replied, pulling the covers more snugly over them.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” Erik told him. “And I can’t complain much about the view.”

Charles chuckled softly, tucking his head underneath Erik’s chin. “This is probably our last time in this bed.”

Erik’s hold on him tightened. “Charles, nothing is going to – ”

“No, no, I know,” Charles interrupted. “Don’t you remember what the Professor and Magneto said, about how they weren’t here for long after the battle was over? It means we’re going home.”

“But… how?” Erik asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that. I’m not sure that even the Professor and Magneto know exactly how it’s going to happen. I have a theory,” Charles told him.

Erik chuckled in amusement. “Of course you do.”

Charles poked him before continuing. “I know nothing about the mutant that I touched, other than the fact that her power sent us here. Perhaps there’s a time limit on her abilities, or even more remarkable, that her ability can send others to crucial moments in time to change, fix, or alter something significant in their lives. And once the change has been made, we simply… return to our present.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to miss it here,” Erik said with what Charles felt was a bit of put upon self-importance.

“Liar,” Charles teased.

“All right, I confess, I’ll miss this bed. It’s much more comfortable than your bed at the manor. We’ll have to get it replaced once we get back, now that I’ve been spoiled by a superior mattress.”

Charles swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, and Erik looked down at him with a frown. “What is it, Charles? If you’re attached to your bed, we’ll keep it, I was mostly just tea – ”

Erik didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, swallowed as it was by Charles’ lips on his own.

*

Charles studied the sleek, black helicopter, brow furrowed as he went over the possible uses they could have for it. Erik’s tense silence beside him was disconcerting.

Breakfast had been a quiet affair, and only Tony and Logan had tucked into their food with vigor. By mid-morning, a strange, dark shape, barely perceptible to the naked eye began to make its way across the sun. Early reports on the radio and television were calling it an unexpected eclipse. Natasha made a call to Nick Fury about a city-wide evacuation, and Steve called for everyone to suit up.

“Why wasn’t the city evacuated before now?” Charles asked as Tony led himself, the Professor, and Erik down to a large Humvee waiting in the street outside the main entrance to Stark Tower. The Professor and Magneto had shared a good-bye kiss that had been both innocent and filled with such intimacy and love that Charles had almost felt that he was intruding on a private moment. It didn’t occur to Charles to wonder why Magneto wasn’t accompanying them – everyone had a job to do, and Charles figured Magneto had his own preparations to make.

“If we’d called for an evacuation days ago, it would have caused city-wide panic, general disruption of order, chaos, et cetera. Personally, I enjoy a good riot, but Fury tends to overrule me on that count,” Tony explained, giving the driver an address Charles wasn’t familiar with.

“But… wont there be casualties?” Charles asked carefully.

“I hope not. I hope that there will be enough time to clear the area we’ve planned on trying to contain the battle to. Cap is pretty amazing at ordering people around in all the right ways to save civilians. But… sometimes it’s inevitable.” Tony shrugged. The gesture wasn’t careless or cruel, just resigned, as if Tony understood in a firsthand way the fact that sometimes, loss of life was inevitable, that innocent people caught in the crossfire paid the price. To Charles, it was a very Erik way of thinking, and he spared a moment of sympathy for Tony, to have lived enough experiences to believe that you could never save everyone. Charles looked at Erik and didn’t know if he would ever believe that every single man couldn’t be saved, somehow.

After a few moments of not quite comfortable silence, Charles peered out the windows, watching as the buildings of the city gave way to a more industrial view of docks and abandoned warehouses. Before too much longer, the vehicle had come to a stop at a helipad banking the East River, and there the helicopter had been waiting for them. Tony looked back at them from the passenger seat and nodded to Erik.

Steve had been vague about what exactly it was he wanted Charles to do, and Charles had caught him sharing a couple of uncomfortable glances with Tony, but when he had tried to read the man, Steve had very pointedly not been thinking about anything in particular. Still, Charles trusted that whatever it was he and the Professor were meant to do, it would benefit the rest of the team in some way.

Once he and the Professor were out of the Humvee, Charles watched as Tony shook hands with the pilot and said something to him that Charles couldn’t hear over the noise of the helicopter.

“Come on,” Erik said, and the strange tension that had taken over him since they’d left the haven of their bed that morning intensified. Charles tried to read him, but apparently Erik had been practicing more than levitation with Magneto, because his mental shields were firmly in place. Charles remembered how focused and determined Erik had been en route to Cuba; at the time, he’d chalked it up to the upcoming confrontation with Shaw, but maybe Erik was always this tightly coiled before a battle.

Charles’ confusion grew when Erik, with the help of Tony, got him and the Professor into the helicopter, buckled into actual seats instead of their wheelchairs. The chairs were still sitting outside the helicopter near the Humvee, which was running idle.

“Erik, what’s going on?” Charles asked, turning toward Erik, trying not to give in to the sudden panic fluttering in his stomach, but Erik wouldn’t look at him. Tony looked vaguely guilty. While Erik was making a concentrated effort to keep him out, Tony had neither the knowledge nor the inclination to do so. Charles didn’t need to do more than brush his surface thoughts to understand what was happening.

“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not getting on some helicopter and _leaving the city_ while you fight an apocalyptic battle! Leave me here if you must, but I refuse to run away.”

“You’re vulnerable here,” Erik told him quietly, expression pained as he avoided Charles’ eyes.

“Erik,” Charles said, and he was aware that his tone was pleading, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Please, my friend, don’t do this to me again. Don’t shut me out. Not like you did with Shaw. Please. You’ve said it yourself: we’ve always been better together. Stronger.”

“I can’t fight the Herald while I’m worried about your safety, Charles. I just can’t.”

“Then _don’t_ ,” Charles exclaimed. “I can take care of myself! Let me worry about me and stop trying to decide what’s best for me, for God’s sake!”

“Charles – ”

“Erik, I beg of you, _please_. Don’t do this. Look at me, Erik. _Look at me_.”

“Charles,” the Professor said gently. “Go to sleep.”

Charles barely registered that the suggestion wasn’t a casual one before the darkness overtook him.

*

Erik held his emotions in check as Charles slumped forward in his seatbelt, but only just. He dug his nails into his clenched fists to keep himself from losing control. This is what he had wanted.

The Professor turned to them. “No worries, gentlemen. I know my limits,” he said with an easy, friendly smile. “I will keep an eye on Charles. Please, for both our sakes, be safe.”

Tony nodded, first to the Professor and then to the pilot, before heading back to the waiting vehicle behind them.

Erik felt rooted to the spot, unable to make his feet move.

“Erik,” the Professor said quietly, smiling in soft reassurance when Erik finally managed to look up at him. “We will be safe. Charles will be safe. He will forgive you for this, I promise. Now go.”

Erik nodded. With one last glance at Charles, his beautiful, stubborn, perfect Charles, he closed the door to the helicopter and ran back to the Humvee.

He closed his eyes as his head rested heavily against the seat, unable to bring himself to look back.

*

Erik felt grim as he made it to the meeting point at Turtle Pond in Central Park. He and Tony had parted ways so that Tony could, as he put it, “get dolled up for the big dance.”

The others looked about as grim as Erik felt, which was, at the moment, a small comfort.

“Put it out of your mind,” Magneto told him as he approached the group. Erik wanted to be angry, to retort that Magneto had _no idea_ , before realizing that actually, Magneto had _every idea_. He took a deep breath and nodded, straightening to full height as he put aside his inner turmoil to focus on the here and now of the job he had to do. Sending Charles away against his will had not made Erik feel better about the imminent battle, but he couldn’t think on it now.

Instead, he studied the group amassed together, awaiting Steve’s orders. His eyes lingered on Thor.

After a moment, Thor noticed, his brow furrowing. “Is there something amiss, angry metal man?”

Erik shook his head. “I… no. I just… I really like your cape.”

There was a silent pause, and then laughter erupted around him, breaking the uneasy tension. Even Magneto was smiling.

“It is of very fine craftsmanship,” Magneto agreed with a nod to Thor, and Thor laughed, pleased. The smile faded from his face, however, as he turned his eyes to the sky.

The dark spot against the sun was slowly but surely growing larger.

“Ok,” Steve said, rubbing his hands together. “Barton, you’re our eyes. I want you up as high as you can get, updating us as frequently as you can about what’s happening. Natasha, Jean, Scott and I will handle ground control and help any remaining civilians trying to leave the city. Tony, Erik, Magneto, Hank and Logan will focus on the Herald. Storm and Thor, you know what to do.”

Storm quirked her lips in a smile, eyes flashing. “Hey Thor? Let’s make it rain.”

Thor’s booming laughter cracked like thunder as he wrapped an arm around Storm and, with a whirl of his hammer, they shot up into the air and disappeared.

Clint tugged on his bowstring, nodding in satisfaction as it snapped back into place before saluting the group and running off toward 5th Avenue.

“Good luck, gentlemen,” Steve said with a nod toward Erik, Magneto, Hank and Logan. Natasha secured two knives in her boots, Scott adjusted his visor, and Jean cracked her knuckles before they too were off, following Steve in the opposite direction of Clint.

“How’d you get out of boy scout duty?” Logan asked Bruce, flicking cigar ash in his direction.

Bruce laughed, but Erik didn’t detect much humor in it. “The other guy pretty much does what he wants in these situations.”

“And when do we get to meet this infamous “other guy”, bub?” Logan asked, clearly less than impressed.

Erik turned as he heard a distant mechanical whirr, growing louder as a shiny red and yellow object in the sky approached them.

“Gentlemen,” Tony’s voice called out, amplified from his steel suit, “we’ve got company.”

Erik turned again, focusing on the direction Tony had indicated from mid-air. Sure enough, in addition to the spot that was beginning to shade the sun, there was a swarm of much smaller dots heading toward them, growing larger and gaining shape as they came closer.

The cyborgs.

“You wanted to meet the other guy?” Bruce asked, turning to face the approaching enemy with a feral grin that was uncharacteristic of the kind, aloof man that Erik knew Bruce to be. “Well, now’s your chance.”

Erik watched in awe as Bruce transformed from a man to a colossal green giant of a creature, towering over them, leaving them in shadow. The Hulk roared at the approaching cyborg army before taking off toward them at a lumbering run.

Logan whooped in obvious delight, tossing the remnants of his cigar to the ground, grinding it with his boot. “Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about! Let’s kill us some fucking robots, gents.”

“Cyborgs, Mr. Howlett,” spoke JARVIS from Tony’s suit.

“JARVIS?” Erik asked, taking no small amount of pleasure in his next words, “Shut the fuck up and get to work.”

*

Charles slowly made his way back to consciousness, eyelids heavy. He felt momentarily disoriented as he looked around, wondering why he was in what looked like a helicopter with the Professor and –

It hit him like a freight train, and he turned accusing eyes on the Professor. “How _could_ you? How could you have just – ”

“Charles, please be quiet for just a moment, I need to concentrate.”

Charles gaped and sputtered, completely at a loss for words, until he heard in his mind, _My dear fellow, you want to turn this helicopter around and return us to the city immediately._

“We’re turning around,” the pilot announced from the cockpit, and Charles’ eyes widened slightly. “I’m taking you back to the city.”

Charles turned to the Professor. “I don’t understand.”

The Professor smiled that serene, knowing smile at him, the one that Charles both couldn’t wait to perfect and also found somewhat irritating. “It’s much easier for Erik and Tony to think their ploy has work and that we’re miles away from the city.”

“You never intended for us to leave,” Charles breathed, feeling a little dumbfounded and, admittedly, a bit proud of his future self.

“Certainly not,” the Professor huffed. “We may be physically limited, but that doesn’t mean we cannot contribute in meaningful ways. Your Erik is a bit more… stubborn minded regarding this than mine.”

“And Tony!” Charles exclaimed, still feeling incensed. “Please, tell me why Magneto hit him in the face when you met him for the second time, I rather think it will make me feel better.”

The Professor laughed, shaking his head. “Tony told me that I was incredibly good looking for an old man with no hair.”

Charles looked at the Professor, laughing in quiet surprise, his anger momentarily forgotten. “Really? That’s it? Which part did he take offense to, the insult or the compliment?”

“You know, I was never able to tell,” the Professor chuckled.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Charles asked, the humor of the moment fading as he looked out toward the city skyline. “Magneto, I mean. He knows we’re coming back.”

The Professor nodded. “We all have our parts to play, Charles.”

*

Erik sent a piece of chain link fence flying at a group of bots who’d been after them on foot and quickly added ‘cyborgs’ to the long list of things he absolutely hated.

Logan tore the head off an errant cyborg that’d leapt onto his back from an alleyway, tearing at the robot’s neck with his claws in one fell swoop. He kicked the fallen remains for good measure.

“Where the fuck is Stark?” Logan growled, punching another cyborg in the face as it rounded the corner of 58th and Madison Avenue.

“Circling the block,” Erik called to him as he levitated up two cyborgs and sent them flying into a third, watching them crash into a heap with satisfaction. Magneto had levitated himself up to what looked like fifth story height, lassoing a growing group of cyborgs with a long piece of chain he’d managed to call up from an abandoned shed a couple of blocks over. He could hear Hank tearing apart cyborgs with his bare hands from somewhere behind him.

Tony tore around the nearest building, stopping to hover a few feet in front of Erik and Logan. “There’s still no sign of the Herald. Clint’s dealing with a group from the top of Lincoln Plaza. Steve and Jean are holding down the fort a few blocks from Rockefeller while Scott and Natasha are getting civilians underground. Storm and Thor have been frying as many of these bastards as they can from Stark Tower, but the bots are on the move. We need to head east.”

Erik nodded, throwing his hands up to catch a cyborg that’d leapt from a building window in hopes of landing on Tony, holding it motionless in midair. Tony turned, and although Erik couldn’t see his expression, he imagined it was one of inconvenienced annoyance. Tony raised an arm and launched a tiny ball of fire at the cyborg, which exploded on impact.

“Thanks, Lehnsherr.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They turned a corner and Erik collided with something warm and solid, the impact briefly knocking the wind from him.

“Sorry, dude!” said a voice, reaching out to steady Erik, who recoiled instantly. The young man appeared fairly plain and unassuming, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, and when he saw Tony hovering in the air, his face broke out into a grin. “Shit, you’re Iron Man. Tony Fucking Stark! I’ve seen you on TV.”

“Congratulations, you have eyes. You need to leave the city,” Tony told him, but the man just shook his head, grin widening as he favored them all with an amused once-over.

“No way man,” he laughed, sprinting off toward the park. “I’ve got a front row seat to the end of the world!”

“Son of a bitch,” Tony groaned, moving to follow him.

“Leave him,” Logan said, reaching out to hook his adamantium blades into the boot of Tony’s suit with a grind of metal on metal that had both Erik and Magneto flinching. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“You know, you _really_ need to stop vandalizing my property,” Tony said shortly, yanking his foot away.

“Touchy, touchy,” Logan replied with a grin.

Erik chuckled to himself, increasing his speed as they ran down the streets of Manhattan.

*

“My God,” Charles said softly as the helicopter approached the city. The pilot, still under the effects of the Professor’s mental suggestion, seemed completely indifferent as he flew closer to what looked like an enormous swarm of angry bees. “I didn’t imagine that there would be so many.”

“The cyborg army is formidable,” the Professor said. “But it appears that, for now, the battle has been contained to the inner city.”

“What are we going to do, Professor?” Charles asked, at a loss. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to face an army of cyborgs equipped with nothing but his telepathy.

Before the Professor could reply, the helicopter gave a great shudder, followed by the angry beeping of warning alarms.

A group of airborne cyborgs had spotted them and were opening fire.

The helicopter gave another great shudder, and Charles could hear the grinding of metal as the rotor blades of the helicopter began to sputter and break down.

The sudden drop made Charles’ stomach plummet, and out the front window he could see the city growing closer and closer at an alarming rate.

“Hold on,” the pilot said as he tried to steer the failing helicopter down safely. They narrowly avoided colliding into a tall building as the pilot tried to maneuver down a wide, deserted city street.

Out of the corner of his eye, Charles caught sight of another airborne cyborg aiming a large gun right at them. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. The cyborg wasn’t human, but it wasn’t entirely machine, either, because he brushed _something_ , if only he could breach whatever it was that –

With a loud, violent crash, the helicopter collided with the side of a building, gravity dragging the remains of the broken body to the ground below.

Charles couldn’t gauge the distance, but he knew they were still up high enough to crash hard. He took the Professor’s hand in his own and braced himself for impact.

*

Magneto felt the helicopter long before it returned to the city, its metallic vibrations humming underneath his skin like a beacon. He refused to let himself be distracted by scanning the skies for a visual, but he kept a small part of himself focused on it, on the metal of the rotor blades as they were hit with the cyborgs’ firepower and ceased to function, on the steel of the helicopter’s body as it fell to the ground, collided with a city building and finally impacted on the street below. He felt the crash, the destruction of the metal like a physical ache. He couldn’t hold back his soft gasp. He knew it was coming, he _knew_ it, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, knowing the danger that the Professor and Charles were in.

Erik had heard him and turned, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

Magneto nodded, catching his breath. “Yes. I’m fine. Anthony… I believe if you ask Mr. Barton to look to the south, he’ll be able to give us the location of the Herald.”

“Are you sure? Shit. Barton, do you copy? Look south, do you see the Herald?”

Erik’s perceptive gaze was still on him, but Magneto refused to give a voice to thoughts of the man who was both their strongest weakness and greatest strength.

“Guys,” Tony cut in, revving his suit up, “he’s here.”

*

Charles groaned as he shook his head, as if he could physically remove the shock of the impact on his person. He hadn’t lost consciousness, he didn’t think, but he was definitely disoriented. He needed to concentrate.

He blinked once, twice, three times, vision coming back into focus. He realized, after looking around the wreckage, that he was upside down, still buckled into his seat. He looked over at the Professor, who had somehow been ripped out of his own seat and was lying on what had been the ceiling of the cabin. He was motionless, eyes closed, and there was blood running down his face from somewhere Charles couldn’t see.

Oh God. _Oh God_.

He forced himself to remain calm. It wouldn’t do himself or the Professor any good if he chose this moment to panic. He groped around for the release of his buckle, letting out a small cry of triumph when he found it.

He hit the ground hard on his shoulder, groaning as he felt something pop. His groan was met with another, deeper one, coming from the front of the wreckage.

“Hello?” Charles gasped out, rolling himself so that he was on his stomach, hands finding purchase on the ground beneath him.

“Think we… crashed…” said the pilot, looking back at him. The pilot noticed the Professor as well, his eyes widening. “Shit. I don’t… I mean… what do we… shit.”

Charles closed his eyes and reached out to touch the man’s mind with his own. _Go now. Leave the city. You do not need to worry about anything else._

The pilot gave him and the Professor one last glassy eyed, vacant look before crawling out of the wreckage through the front window, which had shattered entirely.

Charles took a deep breath and began to drag himself over to the Professor. He cursed himself for not thinking to pry into Tony’s mind sooner, before it had been too late to stop him. Shards of glass scraped across his palms, and he cursed every moment he’d ever decided to put his blind faith in someone. Even Erik. _Especially_ Erik.

 _You don’t mean that_ , chided an inner voice in his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Raven. He reluctantly conceded the point.

He reached the Professor and felt along his neck for a pulse, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he felt it beating strong and steady beneath his fingers. The blood, Charles could see, was coming from an injury to the back of the Professor’s head. It looked to be a superficial, surface wound, but Charles didn’t want to take any chances, especially with the amount of blood the Professor had already lost. He spotted the pilot’s cap and grabbed it, pressing it up against the Professor’s head to stop the blood flow.

As the echoes of battle sounded around them, Charles tried not to let himself feel very real fear.

*

Many of the cyborgs had remained airborne during the battle, riding on strange alien machines that looked like scooters but hovered like aircrafts. The Herald arrived on something similar, suspended in the air with all of Sebastian Shaw’s confidence but none of his charm. Erik loathed him on sight. He was large and imposing, bigger than a cyborg, with dark, menacing eyes and long digits that looked more like tentacles than human fingers.

He looked at their small group of heroes as if they were nothing more than ants, an inconsequential nuisance to be quickly dealt with. Most everyone had gathered together but Clint, who was still fighting off cyborgs from on high, and the Hulk, who had been smashing apart cyborgs in Times Square the last anyone had seen him.

“Your fight is in vain, mortals,” the Herald told them. His voice was low and scratchy, a dark and cruel sound.

“Can we skip this part?” Tony asked, rising up to face the Herald. “I get so sick of you assholes. All you do is talk talk talk.”

“Remind you of anyone?” Logan murmured wryly.

Before the Herald could reply, Tony laughed happily, the sound slightly tinny through his suit. All around them, cyborgs began dropping from the sky.

“My AI just managed to scramble every single one of your Rosie Robots. Oh, and also?” Tony launched two large blasts of firepower at the Herald, the force of which rocked Tony backward several feet.

As the smoke cleared, Erik could see that the Herald was both unmoved and unharmed. He grinned, showing a row of greenish, fanglike teeth, and began to laugh.

Behind him, the blotch on the sun grew bigger still, and for the first time, Erik could make out the outline of a shape. A creature. A monster.

Galactus.

*

For a few moments, all Charles could do was hold the makeshift compress to the Professor’s head and try not to panic.

“Ok. We’re trapped here, quite literally, because you’re unconscious and neither of us can walk. There’s a very big battle going on around us and I’ve no idea what to do. You seemed like you had a plan. Perhaps you should wake up now and tell me that plan.”

 _Wake up_ ,Charles sent to the Professor, mentally poking at his mind.

He sighed when the Professor remained unconscious, closing his eyes, once again trying not to give into the helplessness that was threatening to overtake him. He’d felt a spark of _something_ when he’d tried to breach the cyborg and whatever passed for its mind. If only he’d had more time. If only…

He opened his eyes and looked at the Professor, an idea forming in his head. It was possibly crazy. It probably wouldn’t work. But he had nothing left to lose.

Charles took the Professor’s hand in his own and took a deep breath, centering himself. He gently reached out, touching the Professor’s mind with his own, opening himself up, pushing past the surface of the Professor’s consciousness to find the deeper, subconscious parts of his mind.

When he found it, his mind brushed against it, brief and gentle, before a bright, white spark linked their minds, causing a physical shudder that rocked Charles’ entire body. He didn’t let go of his hold on the Professor’s hand, gripping it tighter as suddenly the Professor’s power was _his_ power, it was something shared, and it was flowing between their newly connected conscious minds.

For one single, infinitesimal moment, Charles understood what it meant about absolute power corrupting absolutely as he reached out and effortlessly touched every single mind within the city. The control was heady, as if he were drunk on the power it gave him and all the possibilities it possessed.

The moment as gone as quickly as it had come, and Charles focused on holding steady every single mind he was now touching. He barely registered the trickle of something wet and warm running from his nose. It didn’t matter. He needed to focus. With determined concentration, he could tell human apart from cyborg apart from mutant apart from… there.

Charles had managed to touch the Herald’s mind.

*

Erik reached backward, calling forth all of the metal he could feel in the vicinity and launching it at the Herald with every bit of power he possessed. Pieces of buildings, piping, vehicle doors, all of it flew at the Herald, blow after blow landing on him as he threw up his arms up to shield himself.

Thor raised Mjolnir to the sky, calling upon lightning to strike down on the Herald as Storm aided and strengthened it with wind currents. Tony continued to fire any ammo his suit could muster at will. Clint had made his way down to join the rest of the team on the ground, firing timed explosives at the Herald from his bow in rapid succession.

The others held back the cyborgs, who, while scrambled and confused by JARVIS, were still operational and trying to attack.

Erik launched another body of metal at the Herald, this one large enough to take him by surprise. The Herald cried out and fell from his flying vehicle to the ground below.

“Dude, did you just fucking knock him out with a Vespa?” Tony asked, laughing in triumph as Magneto secured a metal field around the stunned Herald. The group surrounded him, various weapons pointed at him, ready to attack.

“Tell your boss that dinner’s been cancelled,” Steve said. The force field began to flicker, and Steve glanced over at Magneto with a frown.

“How else can we contain him, Magneto?” Steve asked.

Erik moved closer to help Magneto strengthen the magnetic field he’d built around the Herald when suddenly his entire body froze. He could see that he wasn’t the only one. Everyone was motionless, as if frozen in time.

He felt Charles’ presence, so familiar that it may as well have been a part of Erik. But it was also different. Stronger. Amplified. _More_. Slowly, he felt Charles release his hold on him, followed by the rest of the Avengers and the X-Men. The cyborgs, and more importantly, the Herald, were still frozen in place.

Erik watched in awe as the cyborgs dropped to the ground all at once, as if someone had pressed an “off” switch on their power source. The Herald made a noise of distress, fighting off Charles’ control. In the back of his mind, Erik wondered how Charles was doing this, how Charles had even made it back to Manhattan, but his focus was drawn to the silent battle between Charles and the Herald.

“I will kill you, telepath,” the Herald snarled, clutching at his head as he sank to his knees.

Erik felt his blood run cold and his fury rise at the words. He clenched his fist, twisting it to loop the nearest pliable metals around the Herald’s midsection, squeezing it tightly.

“Galactus,” the Herald gasped, “will come back. He will… always… come back…” He screamed, then, raw and filled with agony, before slumping forward, the fight all but gone out of him.

“What… what the _fuck_ just happened?” Tony asked.

“Charles has incapacitated his mind. We have bound his body. Galactus’ vessel must be killed. Would you like the honors, Anthony?” Magnteo asked, lowering his magnetic field.

Tony turned to the Herald, hands still raised in preparation to launch any fire power that may have been needed. “I…”

From behind them came a roar. The Hulk leapt over their heads and turned, grabbing the Herald and snapping his neck in one clean, solid break.

He turned his large, disapproving eyes on Tony. “Too slow.”

Erik was pretty sure that Logan began laughing first, but as the blurry dark spot over the sun slowly began to disappear, he couldn’t help but join in.

They’d won.

*

Charles felt it, the moment the Herald died. He wasn’t as enmeshed in the creature’s mind as he had been in Shaw’s, and dealing with an alien mind to start with had made quite a bit of difference. Still, he couldn’t help the shaky but relieved laugh from escaping when he knew it was really and truly over. He and the Professor were still trapped, the Professor was still injured, but the world had been saved, and Charles didn’t think they were in any real peril now.

He took a deep breath, laughter turning soft. His hands stung from where the glass had cut him and his shoulder was still throbbing from his rough landing. His head ached fiercely, and he felt a strange sensation niggling at the back of his mind, no doubt an after-effect of using his telepathy in such a way for the very first time. Despite this, he also knew that Erik would find him.

He checked the Professor’s pulse again, still beating strong and steady. “You really can wake up now,” Charles told him. “I’m fairly certain we’ve won.”

He was met with silence, but as long as the Professor continued to breathe, Charles refused to believe he would be anything other than all right. Charles kept his hold on the Professor’s hand as he closed his eyes.

He started awake, not even realizing he’d fallen asleep, when he heard a voice calling to him.

“Charles? Professor? Hello? Are you in there? Shit, fucking suit, so bulky, JARIVIS, make a note that I need to build myself a slimmer suit, I can’t even get in here to -- ”

“Tony,” Charles interrupted with a hoarse chuckle. “I’m here. We’re here. I’m all right. The Professor is injured, but he’s breathing and seems to be otherwise unharmed.”

“Thank God. Everyone else is on their way,” Tony said, just as Charles heard a booming, “Tiny Professor! Fear not! I am here to save you!”

“Thor,” Charles smiled fondly. Other voices joined in, and it was the frantic, “Charles! _Charles_!” that cut into the noise of the others.

Erik.

Erik knelt down onto the ground, looking into the wreckage for Charles. Charles smiled when their eyes met – he was still angry with Erik for what he’d done, furious, even, but all of that was overridden by how happy and _relieved_ he was to see Erik in that moment.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“ _Liebling_ ,” Erik breathed. “Hold on. Don’t move. Magneto and I are going to move the wreckage until we can get to you.”

Charles nodded and Erik hesitated, looking at him with a gaze filled with such intensity and emotion that Charles almost couldn’t breathe. “You’re all right?”

“Yes,” Charles told him. “Now get us out of here.”

Erik gave him a brief smile before disappearing, and Charles heard the groan and grind of metal being torn from metal. Before too much longer, the remnants of the cockpit had been torn away, leaving a large, gaping hole into the cabin where Charles and the Professor were.

Magneto moved in immediately, lifting the Professor gently but securely in his arms, murmuring, “I’ve got you, Charles. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Erik had moved to his side as well, gently moving Charles so that he was resting securely in his lap. Charles looked up at him and quirked a smile. “This is getting to be a rather familiar position for us,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Erik, who was doing his best to blink away the sudden moisture that had appeared in his stormy eyes, just shook his head and bent down, placing a kiss on Charles’ forehead.

“Is everybody all right?” Steve asked, kneeling down in front of the opening Erik and Magneto had created, smiling at them in that easy, affable way of his.

“Captain,” Magneto said, “would you help me with Charles, please?”

Steve nodded and together they maneuvered the Professor out of the wreckage and into the street, where he was once again settled comfortably and gently against Magneto, who was speaking softly into his ear.

“Erik, love, help me out of here?” Charles asked, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see the beautiful, cloudless sky, free of the looming threat of any enemies.

“Of course,” Erik said softly, lifting Charles carefully out of the wreckage and into his arms.

Charles exhaled, smiling at Erik and the assembled Avengers and X-Men around them.

“Well done, my friends,” he said, nodding to them all.

“Who’s up for Italian?” Tony asked cheerfully.

*

Erik thought it was entirely possible that he felt just as relieved as Magneto did when the Professor finally woke up, acting his usual easy-going self, brushing off everyone’s concerns and _Darling, do stop frowning_. Magneto and Jean were using their combined abilities to sort-of levitate the Professor the few blocks back to Stark Tower while Captain America carried Charles. Erik had insisted he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, thank you _very_ much, but once Storm had pointed out that he was tired and more than a little frazzled, Erik had had to concede the point. He was pretty sure Charles had _swooned_ in Steve’s arms, but ignorance was bliss, and Erik was choosing to believe his eyes were simply playing tricks on him.

Distracted as he was, weighing his chances in a duel for Charles’ honor, the firm grip on his wrist took him completely by surprise. He jumped, twisting away on instinct, but the hand on his wrist only gripped him more tightly.

Erik’s eyes narrowed as he tried to place the man who currently had him in an iron hold. He looked vaguely familiar.

“I guess you didn’t get that front row seat after all,” Tony said, and Erik remembered the young man he’d quite literally run into during the battle. He tried to pull his arm away again, but the man simply smiled, nails digging into Erik’s skin. Erik studied his face, and realized with a growing sense of unease as he looked into the man’s eyes that there was something wrong.

“I told you I’d kill you, telepath,” the man said, turning to smile nastily at Charles. “But I think I’ll start with your friend.”

He lunged at Erik, who threw up his free hand in an attempt to shield himself. He braced for impact, but nothing happened. Erik felt the grip on his wrist loosen as he lowered his hand, looking down at the man now crumpled at his feet, his body wracked with spasms. Erik immediately turned to look at Charles and saw that Charles’ eyes were closed, fingers to his temple, expression at once both serene and grimly determined.

The man did not make any noise, and after a moment his body stilled, eyes open and vacant, staring at nothing. Charles’ hand dropped and his own eyes opened, and Erik had never seen such an expression in those cherished depths, not even in Cuba – there was fire in Charles’ eyes, like molten steel, and also a fathomless pain. Magneto’s words came rushing back to Erik, the ones about Charles knowing the pain of taking another life, and suddenly Erik knew what Charles had done.

“I’m sorry,” Charles whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Beyond Charles, Magneto and the Professor looked grim.

“What the hell was that?” Tony asked, voice echoing off the nearby buildings in the sudden silence.

“It was the Herald,” Charles said, voice cracking. “As soon as the Herald died, the last vestiges of his consciousness latched on to that man’s mind… I saw it when I read him. I… I think it may have been my fault, that establishing such a powerful telepathic connection during the battle made it possible for his mind to…” Charles couldn’t finish, looking absolutely stricken, and Erik ached for him.

“Good riddance,” Logan murmured, turning to face Charles. “Don’t beat yourself up, Chuck. You did the right thing.”

 _He was going to kill you_ , Charles spoke desperately into Erik’s mind.

 _I know,_ Liebling _. I know. I love you. I wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same. Alles ist gut, Charles. Alles ist gut._

Erik approached Steve, who was still holding Charles in his arms. “May I?” he asked quietly. Steve nodded, gently moving Charles into Erik’s waiting arms. Charles clung tightly to Erik’s neck, face white and ashen. Erik placed a brief, gentle kiss to his temple before he began walking the remaining couple of blocks to Stark Tower. Hank flanked them like an honor guard, smiling reassuringly at Charles whenever he caught the other man’s eye.

Thor joined them on Erik’s other side. “You may not feel as such, but you have acted in both honor and valor as a true warrior. You take no pleasure in your duty, but fight to protect those you love above all else. It is an honor to have fought by your side, Tiny Professor.”

Charles nodded his thanks and Thor inclined his head in recognition of it. Erik gave Thor a brief nod himself, grateful for Thor’s gesture, even if it hadn’t done much to ease the tumult Erik knew Charles was feeling.

The sun was low in the sky by the time they reached the main doors of Stark Tower.

“I’m surprised the press isn’t here, clamoring for yet another eloquent Stark statement,” Natasha teased, propping the door open.

“I’ve got a really good one, too. Alas, I’m afraid anyone _not_ us is dealing with cyborg clean up at the moment. I’m sure Fury is thrilled.”

“Clean-up _is_ his favorite,” Clint said with a grin.

“Magneto, if you want to come upstairs, I think I can take a look at that bump,” Bruce said, motioning to the Professor, who was still nestled snugly between Magneto and Jean.

Magneto nodded, and the four of them moved to the elevator. The Professor turned in Magneto’s arms, favoring Erik and Charles with his open, honest gaze. “Erik, Charles, it has been a pleasure. Take care of yourselves, please. And each other.”

Magneto had fixed him with a look that Erik couldn’t quite decipher, and he took a moment to feel a sort of awe at the fact that even in fifty years, he would still be a bit of a mystery to himself.

“Thank you,” Charles managed, both earnest and sincere in only the way that Charles could be. Erik caught twin smiles on the faces of the Professor and Magneto just before they disappeared from sight.

“So I guess that means you two are leaving soon,” Tony said, still in his suit of armor, minus the head, which he held tucked under his arm.

“Tony – ”

Tony cut Charles off with a wave of his free hand. “You’re going to miss the Italian, so, I don’t know, remember this conversation so that when Bruce patches up the Professor, I can buy you extra helpings or something. Because I’ll owe you. The Italian, I mean. Since you’re leaving.”

Charles laughed. “All right, Tony. We wont forget.”

Tony nodded, and an odd expression crossed his face before he nodded again, this time more firm and sure.

“Ok. So... good-bye.”

It was awkward and so completely Tony that all Erik could do was laugh, smiling with all of his teeth as Tony got into the elevator, followed by the rest of the Avengers.

“Fuck, stop _smiling like that_ , Jesus Christ!”

Steve gave them a salute and a lopsided smile. “Good luck, gentlemen.”

When the doors had closed again, Erik surveyed the remaining X-Men. Hank gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“I’ll see you soon. A bit sooner than these guys, yeah?”

Storm laughed, wrapping an arm around Scott. “Don’t take too long finding us, ok?”

Everyone looked at Logan, who looked back. “What? Do we all have to offer a parting shot? Fine, I’m not sorry I told you to fuck off.”

Erik raised an eyebrow and Charles chuckled. “No, I don’t imagine that you are. It has been… a genuine pleasure. I look forward to meeting you all again.”

There didn’t seem to be much else to say, and Erik was just beginning to feel slightly awkward, standing in the middle of the grandiose lobby of Stark Tower with Charles in his arms and a crowd of mutants staring at them, when his vision began to flicker.

“Uh, guys, are they supposed to be… _shimmering_?” Scott asked.

“This is it,” Hank said excitedly. “I should’ve brought my notebook!”

“One of the first films to feature time travel was _A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court_ , which was based on the novel of the same name by popular satirist Mark Twain,” JARVIS chimed in helpfully. “ _Gute Reise, Herr Lehnsherr_.”

 _Fuck_ , Erik thought, before everything went dark.

*

“Darling, you worry too much,” the Professor chided as Magneto hovered over Bruce’s shoulder, his frown making the lines on his face even more pronounced.

“It looks like nothing more than a minor concussion,” Bruce said with a smile as he gently pressed on the last of the bandaging he’d applied to the back of the Professor’s head. “I’d say the concussion coupled with the blood loss has earned you a few days of rest and fluids. Otherwise, you’ll be just fine.”

“Did you hear that, love?” the Professor asked. “I’ll live to annoy you another day.”

“Thank God for tender mercies,” Magneto said dryly, but the Professor could hear the waver underneath it.

“I’ll let you get started on that rest,” Bruce said, making quick and efficient work of gathering and disposing of his medical supplies. “Just let JARVIS know if you need me, or anything, really.”

“Thank you kindly, Bruce,” the Professor said with a smile as Bruce took his leave. He looked up at Magneto, eyes softening. “Our younger selves should be home now. I’m probably yelling at you.”

Magneto chuckled softly, settling down next to the Professor on the bed. “Probably. It does seem to be one of your favorite pastimes.”

The Professor laced their fingers together, peering at Magneto with a thoughtful expression. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Magneto quirked an eyebrow at him. “You aren’t going to read it from mind?”

“I rather thought I’d do the polite thing and just ask.”

“I rather think your telepathy is shot after Charles tapped into it.”

“I’ll never tell.”

Magneto sighed. “I knew you’d be hurt. That’s not something easily forgotten, even after fifty years. But it didn’t occur to me, the first time around, that I didn’t actually know whether or not you’d survive. That your injury may have been more complicated than I remembered it, or gotten worse after I wasn’t around to see it.”

“Oh, my love,” the Professor said softly, bringing his hand up to Magneto’s face, turning it toward his own and placing a soft kiss upon Magneto’s lips.

“I’m not quite ready to be without my demanding, bossy, exhausting telepath,” Magneto confessed softly.

“You’re not getting off quite that easily,” the Professor told him with a laugh, smiling fondly as he reached for their tablet, left discarded on the nightstand. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while yet. Now, fancy a game of chess?”

Magneto returned the fond smile with one of his own. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Work up a good appetite, darling,” the Professor told him, swiping a pawn to e4. “Tony owes us a week’s worth of Italian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alles ist gut = all is good/well  
> Gute Reise = have a nice trip


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest thanks to everyone who has stopped by with lovely comments, kudos, feedback and more. I couldn't have asked for a better fandom to be part of. J, thank you more than I can say for looking this over for me, providing invaluable commentary and advice, and encouraging me to write this when I said to you back in August, "So hey, I had this idea for a Charles/Erik story..." All my love and gratitude, I couldn't have asked for a better beta or friend. All remaining mistakes and inconsistencies are my own.

The present came rushing back to Erik suddenly and without warning, pulsing through his ears as if he were trapped in a wind tunnel. He stumbled back – his hands had still been on Charles’ shoulders – and opened his eyes with a gasp. Mystique and Hank gave him an odd glance, Mystique’s eyes sharp and alert, but it was nothing out of the ordinary that would suggest he and Charles had disappeared for almost a week’s time.

Charles was still connected to Cerebro, coordinates methodically spitting out of the printer hooked up behind him.

It was like no time had passed at all.

Erik watched Hank calmly study the page of coordinates as it grew longer and realized that time _hadn’t_ passed. They had gone and returned in the blink of an eye.

“He’s got it!” Hank exclaimed, pulling the coordinates from the printer with a triumphant smile. “It works. Professor, she works!”

Charles’ eyes fluttered open and Erik had to bite his tongue against the desperate noise threatening to claw its way out of him at the intensity of Charles’ gaze. Charles looked about as disoriented as Erik felt, but Charles was also _looking_ at him, really looking at him with the weight of everything that had happened between them.

Charles shook his head as if to clear it, reaching up to remove Cerebro’s headpiece. “I… splendid, Hank, yes. She does indeed work very well.”

Hank frowned. “Did something happen? You seem… it didn’t hurt you, did it?”

“Hmm? No, no, nothing like that. I brushed the mind of a mutant whom… well, no matter. You’ve got the coordinates, yes?”

Hank nodded, handing them over. Charles studied the sheet for a moment before holding it out toward Erik and Mystique.

“Here you are, then.”

After a moment in which Erik made no move to grab the coordinates, Mystique gave him another odd look and stepped forward to take the paper from Charles’ hands. “Thank you, Charles,” she said quietly, looking at him with so much sadness, and suddenly all Erik could think was _no, no, this is all wrong, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be!_

The room was filled with a thick, heavy tension. Erik didn’t understand. Charles was handing off the coordinates like a dismissal, like…

_Charles? Do you… do you no longer want the future that we saw?_

Silence.

Charles was still looking at him, watching him with that frank gaze that had the power to both dress Erik down and build him back up in a single moment. Erik still didn’t understand what was wrong, what had been so inexplicably broken in the time it had taken them to return home, nothing more than the blink of an eye.

And then Charles looked upward, just above Erik’s brow, and Erik realized with a flash of dismay that he was wearing his helmet. It hadn’t come with them to the future, but he’d been wearing it when he and Mystique had arrived at the manor.

Moving faster than he thought himself capable of, Erik wrenched the helmet off his head and threw it as far from himself as he could. It hit the wall of Hank’s lab with a loud clatter, falling to the ground and rolling in a funny half-circle until it came to a stop.

Charles closed his eyes and made a relieved sound, something between a laugh and a sob, as their conscious minds flooded together, winding and twisting, wrapping around each other like old friends; a caress, a whisper, a benediction. Erik fell to his knees in front of Charles, hands gripping the arms of Charles’ chair. Their foreheads pressed together and they simply breathed each other in, content to exist in this moment together, the beginning of the rest of their lives.

_Erik, you must go help those mutants. It’s why you came here._

Erik nodded, opening his eyes to look into Charles’, momentarily losing himself in their depths.

_Yes, Liebling. But it’s not why I’m going to stay._

Hank and Mystique were watching them with no small amount of confusion and a little bit of growing alarm, exchanging baffled glances as they watched the scene unfolding before them.

“What’s going on?” Mystique asked, eyeing Erik’s discarded helmet in the corner. Hank seemed suddenly uncomfortable, scratching the back of his neck as he looked down at the floor, his shoes, anywhere but at Charles and Erik, who were just a breadth away from a kiss.

Erik allowed his lips to ghost across Charles’, an acknowledgement and a promise, before he stood.

“Let’s go, Mystique. Charles is right. We need to rescue those mutants.”

He studied the coordinates before looking up to exchange one last, fond look with Charles. He turned to exit the lab, Mystique following quickly on his heels.

“What is going on?” she hissed, grabbing his arm. “And what do you mean, Charles is right? Charles didn’t say anything!”

Erik shrugged, sliding his arm out of her grasp. “Put it out of your mind, Mystique. We’ve got work to do.”

*

With the help of Azazel, who had been waiting for them at the edge of the manor grounds, getting to the mutants was quick work, and getting them out was even quicker. They had both the element of surprise and the overconfidence of the facility leaders on their side – Erik even managed to feel a little proud that between himself, Mystique and Azazel, they had managed to free the group of teenagers without any casualties. Charles would be happy. The thought put a small smile on Erik’s face.

“Ok, seriously, are you ever going to tell me what the hell is wrong with you?” Mystique asked, pulling him around to face her. They were still in the woods somewhere in Vermont, waiting for Azazel to return from transporting the young mutants safely home. The sun was setting, giving the forest an almost ethereal glow in the light of dusk.

“Care to be a little more specific?” Erik asked, raising an eyebrow at her, although he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“What happened at the manor? Why were you and Charles acting so weird? Why did you take off the helmet? Why are you so… distracted and smiling and… God, you didn’t even kill anyone. You hate it when you don’t get to kill anyone!”

He raised his eyebrow higher and she threw her hands up in exasperation. “Ok, fine, slight exaggeration, but come on… you can’t tell me that nothing is going on.”

Erik took a deep breath and sat down on a nearby rock. “No. I can’t tell you that nothing is going on. I’m not sure if you would believe me even if I did tell you.”

“Try me.”

The story was tumbling out of him before Erik was fully aware that he’d started speaking. At some point during his tale, Azazel popped back into the small clearing, quietly joining Mystique, listening as Erik explained about the life he’d been living for the past week. Mystique gasped softly when Erik said he’d met her in the future, although he refused to elaborate further. When he had finished, everyone was quiet for a moment.

“Well, that explains the lab,” Mystique said, breaking the silence. “You… and Charles. You want to be together with him. Again.”

Erik nodded. “Yes.”

“What does this mean for the Brotherhood? For the rest of us?” She wasn’t angry, not exactly, but Erik could detect a hint of betrayal in her voice, of uncertainty.

“I still believe in the Brotherhood. I still believe in our cause. But… in the future, I’d found a way to achieve most of my goals without being labeled a terrorist or a mass murderer, without doing the things that would earn me such titles. In the future, we all work together, the Brotherhood and the X-Men. It isn’t perfect, but… I’ve seen the life I can have, Mystique. The things I can achieve with Charles by my side. And that’s… that’s one thing I’ve always wanted, even before I went to the future.”

“You cannot expect us to live harmoniously in his mansion,” Azazel said carefully.

Erik shook his head. “No. I don’t expect either of you, or Emma or Janos or anyone else to follow me back to Westchester. I believe that Charles will welcome you there, but that will be your choice. Whether you choose to remain with the Brotherhood is also up to you.”

Azazel nodded, considering. “You’ll be in touch? That is… we can contact each other?”

Erik inclined his head. “Of course. You’re always welcome at the manor, Azazel. Provided you don’t try to kill anybody,” he said wryly.

Azazel chuckled and then turned to Mystique, who was looking at Erik with an unreadable expression. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, searching for the words but unable to find them. Finally, she sighed deeply. “I don’t know if I can go back there. There’s Charles, and Hank…” she shook her head. “Damn it, Magneto. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re sort of my best friend now. I don’t know if I can go back to the Brotherhood without you.”

“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Erik told her, standing up and stretching. “Azazel, if you would? It’s been a long day. A very, _very_ long day.”

Mystique and Erik each took one of Azazel’s hands, and in a puff of smoke, they were gone.

*

Charles folded his hands patiently in his lap, looking at Hank, Sean, and Alex, waiting for them to process everything he’d just told them.

“So you went to the future…”

“And met yourself…”

“And a bunch of other people. Other mutants. _Me_.”

“You met my _brother_ …”

“And you and Erik… I mean Magneto… no, I mean Erik… no, I mean… um…”

Charles laughed, shaking his head, still trying to wrap his own mind around the entire situation. The rainy morning he’d awoken to seemed so far away now.

“Erik and I have reconciled, yes. He’ll be staying here with us. With me.”

Alex scowled. “You trust him to live with us? Is he going to bring his Brotherhood? In case you’ve forgotten, Raven and Angel want nothing to do with us, and the last time we met that creepy demon guy and his annoying friend with the tornado hands, they were trying to _kill us_. And Erik? He fucking _left you_ on that beach after he practically shot you himself, and –”

“Alex,” Charles cut in calmly, mentally reaching out to soothe Alex’s increasingly frazzled nerves. “I have forgiven Erik for what happened. I trust him with my life. I trust him here, with us.”

Alex folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head. “You’re blind when it comes to him. I’m sorry, Professor, but it’s true. You are.”

Sean bit his lip, looking between Alex and Charles uncertainly.

“Alex…” Charles began, looking at Alex earnestly. “All I’m asking is that you give Erik a chance to earn your forgiveness. You don’t have to give it now. You don’t have to give it readily. Maybe you never will, and that’s all right. But it would mean a great deal to me if all of you could try. The future that I saw… it wasn’t perfect. No life ever is. But it was better than this stagnant uncertainty we’ve been living in. We all have the chance to work toward a future where humans and mutants and super soldiers and alien Gods work together not by force, but by choice. It’s the kind of future that you all deserve, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that you get it.”

Alex, Hank, and Sean were all quiet for a long moment before Alex nodded once, tersely. “I’ll try. For you, Professor… I’ll try.”

Charles smiled, greatly moved and inexplicably proud. Hank nodded his agreement. “I’m an X-Man. That isn’t going to change.”

Charles bit back the swell of emotion he felt, not only at Hank’s words, but at the soft waves of respect and admiration that were coming from all three boys. It threatened to overwhelm him, and he took a shaky breath to steady himself.

“Professor,” Sean said, very seriously, “did you _really_ meet Captain America? I mean… for real?”

“Not only did I meet him, Sean,” Charles replied with a grin, “but he personally carried me through the streets of Manhattan.”

“That,” said Sean, “is fucking _awesome_. Um, pardon my language. Sir.”

Charles threw his head back and laughed.

*

Charles felt the sudden presence of three minds on the manor grounds, then just as quickly, only two. Azazel had returned Erik and Raven, then.

Charles tapped his fingers idly on his desk. He stirred his tea and took a sip, grimacing slightly at how cold it had become. He placed a bookmark in the book he’d been reading – a nondescript and somewhat dull genetics text – and set it aside. All mundane tasks meant to soothe both his nerves and his busy mind. He hadn’t been able to keep still all evening, not sure if or when Erik and Raven would be returning. Although he was admittedly relieved to have them back so soon after they’d left, part of him wanted to put off the upcoming conversation with Erik as long as possible.

He heard the footfalls of someone making their way up the stairs and down the hallway to his bedroom. The knock was quiet, but Charles already knew who was on the other side.

_Come in, Erik._

Erik stepped into his room and shut the door behind him, giving Charles a small, crooked smile. Despite himself, Charles felt warmth pooling in his chest and returned the gesture. “I’m assuming everything went off without a hitch?”

Erik nodded, moving into the room to sit in the chair opposite Charles’ desk. “We made it in and out fairly quickly, no casualties. The children were hungry, a bit dirty, and understandably scared, but otherwise unharmed.”

Charles nodded. “I’m glad.”

Erik picked up on Charles’ tension easily enough, and nodded carefully, as if Charles were an animal he didn’t want to spook. “Me too.”

Charles frowned when Erik didn’t say anything further. “We have to talk about what happened.”

“Which part?” Erik asked, leaning back into the chair, although he looked far from comfortable or casual.

“Don’t play stupid, Erik, it doesn’t suit you,” Charles snapped, the anger that had dimmed in the aftermath of the battle rearing its ugly head once again. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. What were you _thinking_ , just… sending me off like that, without even _talking_ to me?”

Erik sighed. “I know you’re angry, Charles. I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“An apology might suffice. Or perhaps a promise to stop making decisions for me? That might be a start!”

Erik shook his head. “I’m not sorry for what I did. Charles…” he looked up at Charles, holding Charles’ gaze, imploring Charles to understand. “I’m always going to make the choice that keeps you safe.”

“That isn’t fair,” Charles told him. “Put yourself in my place. How would you feel if I did the same to you? If I used my powers to “suggest” to you right before facing off against an enemy that perhaps you ought to sit this one out, darling, and I’ll see you for dinner?”

Erik’s lips thinned and he clenched and unclenched his fists. “I would… I would hate that,” he allowed.

“Erik, I love you. You’re the love of my life. In fifty years, we’ll be ridiculous old men who don’t even bother to hide how much they adore each other. Someday, we’re going to be _married_. I think that we’re both going to want to do everything in our power to keep each other safe. But we can’t… we can’t take choices away from each other. We have to trust each other.”

“I do trust you,” Erik murmured, reaching across the desk to rest his hands on top of Charles’. “More than I have ever trusted another single person in my entire life. But you’re…” Erik looked away, emotion clouding his eyes. “My father, my mother… they were the only thing I’d ever had in this life worth losing… until you. And I lost my parents. I couldn’t save them. But you…” and Erik shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Darling,” Charles whispered, turning his palms up to lace their fingers together. He gave Erik’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “I love you. I love you so much, Erik.”

Erik squeezed back, offering Charles a slight smile. “I love you, Charles. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with all of these… feelings that I have for you.” Charles laughed softly at that, and Erik continued, looking at him in earnest now. “And for what it’s worth, I am sorry if I made you think that I doubt your abilities. You’re… Charles, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, in every way.”

Charles brought Erik’s hands to his lips, kissing them softly. “Don’t you see, my love? Together we’re everything we’ve ever wanted to be. We’re unstoppable. I think the Professor and Magneto proved that.”

Erik’s answering smile was a bit shaky, but he still stood and made his way around the desk and into Charles’ waiting arms. Charles held him close and tight, placing a kiss to his temple before pulling back to give him a sly grin. “Besides, I did sort of put a wrench in your plans when the Professor had the pilot immediately turn around and take us right back to the city.”

Erik’s scowl was almost comical. “I should have realized what he was up to. I’ve never known you to be so cheerfully compliant.”

Charles laughed, cupping Erik’s face in his hands. “We have to trust each other, my love,” he said, stroking Erik’s cheek gently with the pad of his thumb.

“If I promise not to be…”

“Sneaky? Unreasonable? Stubborn? Stop me when I start getting cold.”

Erik gave him a look. “I was going to go with overbearing, thank you. But, if I promise that, will you promise to… I don’t know, never, ever put yourself into life threatening situations, maybe?”

Charles raised an eyebrow at him. “I can promise to try,” he said with a chuckle.

Erik grinned, resting his head on Charles’ shoulder. “I can live with that.”

*

“You’re getting good at that,” Erik told Alex as the younger man launched another plasma blast at one of the targets he’d set up in the grassy practice area that Charles and Moira had once worked with Sean in.

Alex spun, and Erik had to duck as an errant plasma blast flew over his head. He chuckled as he straightened back to full height, folding his arms across his chest. “Should I even bother asking whether or not that was an accident?”

Alex rolled his eyes and turned back to the targets. “What do you want?”

“You’re angry with me. Despite the fact that neither of us is much inclined to readily discuss his feelings, Charles seems to think it will help.”

Alex snorted. “I am nothing like you.” He sent a blast of energy out toward a target, severing the head clean off.

Erik smiled wryly at him. “Of course you’re not. Let’s see, you got dealt a bad hand as a child, have lived a mostly solitary life, you’re angry at the world, and you’re prone to thinking with your temper. You’re right, that doesn’t sound _anything_ like me.”

Alex whirled. “Oh fuck you, _Magneto_. I didn’t shoot my lover in the back and abandon my friends when they needed me the most.”

Erik wasn’t smiling now, but Alex didn’t back down. “You didn’t even know he was paralyzed. I mean, did you even know whether or not we’d made it off the beach alive, or did you just come here hoping we’d survived so that you could use the Professor some more? God, and he just… he was heartbroken after you and Raven left, but Jesus, he’s never been angry with you. I don’t understand why I’m the only one who is so fucking _angry_ at you, at Raven, at Angel, at all of you, and I just… God, I _hate_ you. We were a team. We were a _family_. Darwin fucking _died_ to keep us together, and instead of throwing Shaw’s cronies away for good, you _joined_ them. So no, I don’t want to _talk_ about it. Leave me the fuck alone.”

For a moment, Erik felt the familiar surge of righteous indignation that had carried him through his adolescence and into adulthood. For a moment, he wanted to open his mouth and put Alex in his place, to lash out in return. Instead, he accepted that perhaps this was a consequence of his actions that he would have to live with. Erik couldn’t deny all the ways in which he saw himself in Alex, and he couldn’t begrudge Alex an emotional response that he understood all too well. Not everyone possessed Charles’ forgiving heart, Hank’s resolve, or Sean’s youthful enthusiasm, all things which had made his transition back into the manor smoother than it could’ve been. And Alex possessed something equally valuable, which was a more realistic, albeit a bit more cynical, view of the world. It would help keep them safe.

Erik didn’t offer any apologies. He knew that Alex wouldn’t want them. It was possible that Alex would never forgive him for the things he had done, and in that moment, Erik knew he need to be ok with that.

“Stop leaning to the left,” Erik told him as he turned to make his way back toward the manor.

“What?” Alex snapped, turning around again.

Erik looked over his shoulder. “When you aim your blasts, you always lean a little to the left. You’ll have better control if you concentrate on centering yourself.”

“I…” If Alex had a retort, he chose to save it for another day. “Thanks.”

Erik nodded and turned back to the manor once again, feet crunching underneath the gravel.

It was a start.

*

Despite the fact that the door to Raven’s room was wide open, Charles still knocked on the doorframe.

“May I come in?” he asked when she turned from where she was nestled on the windowsill. She nodded and he made his way over to her side, peering out the window.

“It’s a nice day out.”

She nodded, hugging her legs closer to her chest. “Yeah.”

Charles sighed. “My dear, you’ve been here for days and you… you aren’t happy.”

Raven looked at him sharply, about to retort when he held his hands up. “I haven’t been reading your mind, I promise. But I’ve known you for almost our entire lives, and I know _you_ , Raven.”

“It’s Mystique,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of the windowsill and hopping off, walking over to her dresser.

“You’re always going to be Raven to me,” Charles told her softly.

She turned, yellow eyes flashing. She hadn’t taken any form other than her natural one since being back at the manor. “Has it ever occurred to you that the problem here is that you don’t ever take my feelings into consideration? If I want to be called Mystique, if I want to be in my natural form, clothing or not, you should _respect_ that because it’s what I _want_.”

“And has it occurred to you that I haven’t once made a single wave about your appearance in the time you’ve been here? As for your name, I doubt you could no more call me anything but Charles than I can stop myself from calling you Raven. I don’t do it to undermine you. Despite what you may think of me, I don’t go around thinking up ways to make you feel badly about yourself.”

She fiddled with an old glass trinket, plucking it from the top of her dresser. “Mag… Erik told me that you guys met me. In the future, I mean.”

Charles nodded. “We did.”

“How…” She worried her lower lip. “How was that?”

Charles couldn’t help the full, open smile that crossed his face. “It was wonderful.”

Raven blinked and looked away. “Are we…”

“We’re very close. As close as we’ve ever been,” Charles said gently. He wasn’t reading her, but she was projecting her conflicted emotions loudly enough for him to pick up on them without trying. She felt so lost, torn between her love for Charles and her loyalty to Erik’s ideals. Charles ached to tell her that she didn’t have to choose, but he wouldn’t force the conversation; he’d broken his promise to her once, and he wouldn’t do it a second time.

“Can I…” she indicated in his general direction, and he nodded his head, understanding what she was asking.

She walked back over him and gently curled herself up in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, allowing the first of her tears to fall. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, feeling his own eyes misting over as he kissed the top of her head, their entire history flitting between them in flashes and fragments of memory. “I know. I know you are. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for all the times I was reckless with your feelings. I assure you, I had no idea how I was coming across. It doesn’t excuse my actions, but I hope you know that I would never intentionally hurt you.”

She sniffled and laughed. “God, Charles, you’re always so _earnest_. I know, ok? I mean… deep down, I’ve always understood, I think. But it’s really nice to hear you say it.”

Charles smiled into her hair, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back. “I’m very proud of you, Raven. Of the woman you’ve become. I’m not ashamed of you. How could I be? You’re as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, and to hell with anyone, myself included, that ever makes you feel otherwise.”

“Charles,” she groaned, but she hastily wiped fresh tears from her face. “ _Thank you_.”

“You’re very welcome,” Charles said with a fond smile. “Now, tell me, honestly: are you happy here?”

Raven took a deep breath, exhaling. “I don’t know.”

“We will always be here, Raven. You will always have a place here. If you need to go out into the world and find your way, you can always, always come back home.”

She sat up straighter, looking at him with serious eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

She nodded. “I think… I think I need that. To go, I mean. At least for a while.”

Charles reached down to squeeze her hand reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. You will have the most amazing, accomplished life. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Raven laughed at that, smiling a little more brightly at him than she had before. “I really missed you,” she confessed.

“You’ve always been the only true family I’ve ever known,” Charles told her. “I felt your absence more keenly than anything else.”

She shook her head, the emotion and affection thick between them. She shoved at him in gentle camaraderie. “At least you’ll have Erik here to keep you in line.”

Charles laughed. “A small consolation, I suppose.”

*

Erik was stretched out on his side in their bed, studying Charles as the other man looked up at the ceiling, hands tucked behind his head on the pillow.

“I’m not a telepath and I can almost hear you thinking,” Erik told him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Raven is leaving,” Charles said eventually.

Erik nodded. He wasn’t surprised. The last thing Mystique wanted was to be hidden away in her musty old childhood home, even with the people she loved the most.

“She’ll be back,” he replied, watching Charles’ face. There was something else, something more that Charles wasn’t telling him.

“But I don’t think that’s really what’s bothering you,” Erik ventured when Charles went quiet again.

Charles sighed and turned toward Erik. His eyes were impossibly blue, their depths impossibly endless.

“No,” he said softly. “It isn’t. Erik…” he swallowed, and Erik could see the resolve on his face to continue speaking, to force the words out. “Erik, I killed a man.”

“Charles,” Erik breathed, moving to wrap his arms around Charles’ smaller frame. Truth be told, Erik had been waiting for this. He hadn’t brought it up, trusting that when Charles needed to talk about it, he would come to Erik. They’d been home now longer than they’d spent in the future, but if Erik knew one thing, it was how to be a patient man. He felt relieved that Charles was finally ready to face this particular demon. That they were going to face it together.

“I don’t think I could have saved him,” Charles said sadly. “I don’t think any of us could have. The Herald had taken him over, but he was… he was still in there, too, like a prisoner to his own mind.” Charles’ voice cracked and he cleared his throat, determined to finish. “He didn’t deserve to die, Erik."

Erik cupped Charles’ cheek gently. “I know.  But Charles, that man was being consumed by a destructive force, destroyed from the inside. I think he must be grateful to you, _Liebling_. You did… the only thing you could have, given the situation. You protected your friends. You defended yourself. You saved my life. And all of that, after you’d already saved the world. In my eyes, that makes you a hero more than it will ever make you a killer.”

Charles closed his eyes tightly against the onslaught of emotion that Erik himself could almost feel as if it were his own. Charles leaned into Erik’s touch like a lifeline and Erik felt the gentle hum of their now ever-present mental connection strengthen.

“It’s all right to grieve, Charles.”

Charles nodded, tucking his face into the crook of Erik’s neck. Erik trailed his fingers lightly up and down the space between Charles’ shoulders, hoping that the gentle movement would eventually lull Charles to sleep.

“Stay until I fall asleep?” Charles asked, his voice already thick and far away.

“Even after that,” Erik murmured, and he felt Charles’ answering smile against his skin.

*

Charles didn’t think it had been more than a few hours since he and Erik had talked, although his mind felt more at ease than it had. He turned sleep cloudy eyes to the window and could see that dawn was slowly approaching through a crack in the curtains.

Charles’ stirring woke Erik, who favored him with a drowsy smile. Charles was suddenly overwhelmed with feeling for this man, and grateful for the second chance they’d been given. He leaned over to pull Erik close, kissing him soundly.

Erik returned the kiss, strong arms wrapping around Charles. Charles pulled away to look at Erik, holding his gaze.

“Erik…” he sent to Erik what he couldn’t find the words for, flashes and impressions and _desire_ , and Erik understood.

“Charles, are you… are you sure?”

Charles nodded.

Their fumbling was awkward at first, hands and elbows bumping as they tried to remove each other’s clothing. Charles huffed a laugh as he tugged Erik’s dark polo over his head and threw it aside while Erik shimmied out of his pants. Charles knew it was only a matter of time before they found their old groove again, and judging from the expression on Erik’s face, he didn’t mind too much.

Charles gasped when Erik’s hands touched the bare skin of his chest, rubbing down his torso.

“God, Charles,” Erik murmured, leaning forward to kiss the exposed skin, taking a pert, pink nipple between his teeth.

“Erik! Yes, darling, just like that,” Charles moaned, carding his fingers through Erik’s hair. Erik’s mouth was still on him, but his hand had wandered down to toy with the fastening of Charles’ trousers.

Erik sat back to pull both trousers and briefs off of Charles in one swift movement, taking care to be gentle as he slipped them over Charles’ hips and down his legs. Charles looked up at Erik, breathing heavily, feeling exposed in every way.

“Beautiful,” Erik whispered, carefully spacing Charles’ legs apart and then up, planting a gentle, reverent kiss on the inside of Charles’ thigh. Charles couldn’t feel the press of Erik’s lips, but his breath hitched just watching it. Erik was looking at him with an expression of such unguarded affection and adoration that Charles wasn’t sure he would be able to hold his gaze for long without falling to pieces.

“You are so perfect,” Erik told him, continuing to pepper kisses across his skin. When he finally settled Charles’ legs, Erik leaned over him, their noses bumping as their lips brushed together. Charles reached up to grasp Erik behind his neck, pulling him down into a fierce, passionate kiss. He didn’t have words, not in that moment, for everything that he was feeling, so he tried to pour it all out into the kiss, to let Erik know just how much he meant to him.

Their minds opened to each other almost without conscious thought, just a gentle brush at first. Erik broke away from Charles’ lips to kiss his way over to Charles’ ear, teasing the lobe. “Share this with me, _Liebling_ ,” he whispered into Charles’ ear. “Share what this feels like for me. I want you to look and see everything that you mean to me.”

Charles’ eyes widened slightly as the implication of Erik’s words sunk in. Even at the height of their relationship, before everything had gone pear shaped, Charles had never, ever been invited to submerge himself fully into Erik’s conscious mind.

“And before you ask,” Erik said with a chuckle as he nipped at Charles’ ear, “I am absolutely sure.”

Entering Erik’s mind felt like a dam bursting; he’d once told Erik that he knew everything about him, but now he _felt_ it as well, whimpering softly as the sensations of _pleasurewantpassiondevotionjoylove_ washed over him in wave after wave.

“ _Erik_ ,” he gasped, gripping Erik more tightly to him, never wanting to let him go.

Erik captured his mouth in another searing kiss, fumbling blind toward the nightstand with one hand, opening the top drawer and pulling out a bottle of lotion.

Charles broke the kiss, quirking an eyebrow at him with a breathless laugh. “How did that get there?”

Erik shrugged unapologetically before claiming Charles’ mouth with his own once more. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

Charles took a deep breath as Erik pulled back from their kiss to pour some of the lotion into his hand, which he then moved slowly down between Charles’ legs. Erik’s erection was pressed into Charles’ thigh, and Charles found that his mouth was suddenly dry at the sight.

Erik grasped his cock and it was strange, watching it happen but not _feeling_ it, not in the way he had before. Erik gave a few experimental tugs and Charles could feel that he was pleased when Charles began to harden in his grip. Charles hadn’t known how he would respond to Erik’s physical touch, and he found himself relieved as well. They shared a brief smile, laughing softly together in the sudden quiet of the room.

Erik was generous with the lotion, spreading it up and down Charles’ length as he stroked him languidly. When he moved to coat his own erection, Charles batted his hands away with another breathless laugh.

“Let me,” he said, and Erik nodded, pouring some of the lotion into Charles’ palm before setting it back on the nightstand. Charles took Erik’s cock into his hand, coating Erik’s erection as he moved his wrist experimentally, sense memory guiding him, reminding him what Erik liked, the ways in which Erik loved to be touched.

“ _Mein Gott_ , Charles,” Erik gasped, closing his eyes against the rush of sensation. Charles felt that same pleasure returned to him through their shared connection, where Erik’s pleasure was suddenly his pleasure, and it took his breath away.

After a few more strokes, Erik gently pushed Charles’ hand aside. He leaned himself over Charles, hand still between their bodies as he looked down at Charles with an expression that was filled with everything Charles had almost never dared hope that he could ever have.

Charles relaxed against the pillows as Erik took both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them in tandem. Sparks of pleasure danced across Erik’s mind, travelling to Charles as if on a livewire. Each sensation that Erik experienced was mirrored back to Charles, every moment of feeling flooding Charles’ senses. They had connected mentally during sex before, but it had never been like this. They’d never connected so fully, become so enmeshed in each other that Charles wasn’t entirely sure where he ended and Erik began.

The pleasure mounted and they both cried out. Erik began stroking harder, faster, gripping their erections more tightly in his fist as he increased the pace and the pressure.

“Charles… _Liebling_ , so good, _so good_ …”

Charles pulled Erik down into a kiss that was hot and messy and perfect, their tongues tangling together in an uncoordinated dance before Charles had to break away to gasp loudly, clinging to Erik’s back. He could feel a hint of his own pleasure, the ghost of a sensation, but it was Erik’s pleasure he was riding on, the sharing of this seemingly small thing together heightening the experience for both of them.

Erik was thrusting into the channel of his fist now, pumping their cocks erratically as the waves of pleasure began to overtake him, building at the base of his spine and pouring outward to tingle across his entire body. Charles felt it as if it were his own skin on fire and wanted to weep for the joy it brought him to know this again.

“Charles, close, I’m close,” Erik panted, breathing into Charles’ collarbone, nipping gently at the skin beneath his lips. Charles tangled his fingers in Erik’s hair and closed his eyes, moaning as Erik’s teeth grazed his sensitive flesh.

Erik looked up just before he came and their eyes locked. In that moment they were suspended together, on the brink of something that was so much bigger than either of them. Charles’ breath hitched and then they were falling over the edge together, Erik spurting hot and slick between their bodies. Charles cried out and gripped Erik more tightly as the sensation of orgasm ripped through his own body; he knew he hadn’t come, not physically, but whether he’d experienced his own dry orgasm or had merely shared the sensation with Erik through the open connection they had created during their lovemaking, it didn’t matter. Charles was floating; soaring on a feeling he had convinced himself he would never know again.

“I love you,” Erik breathed into his neck. “Charles, I love you.”

Charles laughed, breathless and joyful, pulling Erik’s face up to his for a proper kiss. “I love you. God, I love you.”

“Was it… are you…” Erik’s brow furrowed as he searched for the right way to phrase his question, but Charles didn’t need words. He already knew.

“I’m bloody brilliant,” Charles told him honestly, kissing him again. Erik’s lips were addicting, and Charles had the thought that he wouldn’t mind kissing them every day for the rest of his life, followed by the giddy realization that that was exactly what he would get to do.

Charles was loathe to let Erik go, feeling sleepy and sated and on top of the world, but eventually he released Erik from the tangle of his arms. Erik stepped into the en-suite bathroom, returning with a wet cloth and a towel. He cleaned Charles with a quiet reverence that left Charles feeling shaken, but in the best way. After, he crawled back into bed and Charles’ waiting arms.

“I think we should try telepathic sex next time,” Charles teased.

Erik squinted at him, which made Charles laugh. “Telepathic sex?”

“Yes. A bit like what Emma was doing with that Russian chap when we burst in on them.”

Erik’s brow furrowed. “You mean like making me think we’re having sex when we really aren’t?”

“It would be real enough for you. And I would be able to use my legs again,” Charles said quietly.

“Charles,” Erik said, propping his head up on his arm to look at Charles properly, “tonight was… it was perfect. I would rather have what we just shared than a projection of anything you think I might want. All I want is _you_.”

“You ridiculous man,” Charles said gruffly, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

“ _You’re_ ridiculous,” Erik retorted fondly, moving around a bit, trying to get comfortable.

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked as Erik continued to wiggle.

“We definitely need to get that new mattress.”

*

Erik found Mystique on the manor grounds, leaning against the stone wall that faced the large satellite off in the distance. It was the same place that he and Charles had shared what Erik considered to be one of the strongest defining moments of their relationship.

She looked deep in thought, so Erik settled in wordlessly beside her, studying the satellite, which hadn’t been moved back to its original position. For some reason, that made Erik glad.

“I’m leaving,” Mystique told him after another few moments of comfortable silence.

Erik nodded. “Charles told me, but even out in the woods, I knew you weren’t going to stay here. At least not right now.”

“You sure I can’t talk you into coming with me? We could take on the world together, you know,” she said, smiling ruefully at him.

Erik laughed, but he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. This is where I belong, Mystique.”

“I wish I had your certainty. I think… I’m going to find Azazel. But after that… I don’t know.”

Erik shrugged. “Maybe the two of you can figure it out together.”

Mystique scoffed, giving him a look. “What, like you and Charles? I’m sorry, but not everybody finds the love of their life because he launches himself off a boat into freezing water like a crazy person.”

Erik smiled at the memory and Mystique rolled her eyes good naturedly, but then her expression grew serious as she studied Erik. “I think he loved you the moment he touched your mind. I think that’s all it took for him, just a single touch to know that you were it, you were the one. I envy his certainty, too.”

“Mystique, the world is yours. You can go anywhere. Do anything. _Be_ anything, and I don’t just mean because of your abilities. You don’t have to follow Charles’ lead or mine; you get to follow your own. Embrace that.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Erik Lehnsherr?” she asked with a laugh, but she reached out to give his arm a grateful squeeze all the same.

“Maybe I left him in the future,” Erik teased.

“You know, speaking of the future… Sean told me that you and Charles were married there.”

“Sean is a meddlesome instigator.”

“He heard it from Charles!”

“The original meddlesome instigator,” Erik said with a put-upon, long suffering sigh.

“So is it true?”

Erik nodded, expression softening. “Yes. And they were… _we_ were very happy. Happier than I ever imagined it was possible for me to be.”

Mystique squeezed his arm again, smiling. “Well, just so you know, the grounds here are absolutely stunning in the spring. I mean, the garden parties Charles’ mother used to throw were the stuff of legends. So, you know, think about it.”

She bumped her shoulder against his before she turned to head back toward the manor. Erik called to her retreating back, “Think about a garden party?”

“No, you idiot,” she replied, not bothering to turn around. “A wedding!”

Erik chuckled and turned back toward the satellite, content to lean against the stone wall and look at the large, imposing structure. He tilted his head, thinking that it looked a bit like it could stand be shifted toward the manor, just a little.

Erik smiled and reached out his hand.


End file.
